


Chilling

by rhincoln



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Angst, Bickering, Cohabitation, Infidelity, M/M, Manhandling, Relationship Problems, Snowboarding, Vacation, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2019-09-28 03:04:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17174651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhincoln/pseuds/rhincoln
Summary: Rhett and Link were inexplicably drifting apart, so Rhett came up with a grand plan to make things right again. The two men were off to the Alps — but there would be no butt-eating.— inspired by Roses in the Winter





	1. one: talking with the rock system

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thenthekneehits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenthekneehits/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Roses in the Winter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4906303) by [thenthekneehits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenthekneehits/pseuds/thenthekneehits). 



> This fic is me just raving about thenthekneehits. VERY unsolicited, and when said user sees this, they may want to end me, or they may like it (I think about it every night). 
> 
> It is also me being me and just writing, so there’s some funny or weird parts, and though I’d like to think I’m not that bad, still I’d urge you not to judge their work based on mine, not assuming you are going to, just disclaiming. Thought I do need you to go read their fic, [ Roses in the Winter ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4906303/chapters/11254309#workskin) , and all of their other stuff, because it’s a gift.  
>  And because I try to treat thenthekneehits’ work with enough respect to know that I could never seriously write anything as good as them, I’m apprehensive about this, but this concept has had me gripped for literal years now so I need to get it out. 
> 
>   
> 
> 
> (This is not in any way an urge for thenthekneehits to finish their fic, cause they will do it if/when they feel like it. They are of course a huge inspiration and an incredible artist and I’d [nudge wink] die if they DID write any more… ) 
> 
>   
> 

_ "What are we doing today?" he inquired as he saw Rhett get up, having finished his respective meal in only a few bites. _

_ Rhett stepped up to the coffee machine, setting it to brew. "Chilling," he tossed as a reply. _

_ Link's face shaped a smile, and happiness flooded him in simple causation, waking him up more. "You have no idea, do you," he chaffed. _

_ "Do too." _

_ – Roses in the Winter _

* * *

  
  


Rhett found himself watching the news. Evening after evening, as of late, he flicked on the TV, with or without the company of his family, and made sure he was updated. Not that his interest in the goings-on in the world was anything new, but he’d used to just skim article titles in links on twitter. Now he found himself on the couch in the living room, just like every evening, same time, in front of the television. He watched and half-heartedly listened to the troubles of the world, focusing rather on the way the two co-anchors interacted. That night he was sitting in the dark with just the TV on and the colourful lights of the Christmas tree blinking merrily behind him, checking his phone periodically.    
  
He thought of his co-anchor (and thinking of him like that made Rhett’s guts constrict) and the fact that he hadn’t texted Rhett a  _ Merry Christmas! _ yet. Somehow Rhett found himself thinking about such things as the fact that he didn’t want to be the first one to initiate, just to see if Link would even remember this year.   
  
How this related to the news-watching is… well, it didn’t, not really. Link had just been on Rhett’s mind lately, and so it came about the first time he saw the pair on screen. On the left hand side, a blond woman with an elongated, aquiline face and big eyes (nice rack, too), and on the left, a charming man sporting salt-and-pepper hair. Rhett had once accidentally noticed how well the two news anchors played off each other when they had the slight opportunity to add fleeting comments as they delivered the news. They shared looks amongst themselves, or looked at the other when they were facing the camera. It wasn’t anything radical — yet it was enough to set the gears in Rhett’s mind in motion.

  
  


He’d wondered how the two people interacted off-screen, like — did they ever meet up for drinks after work? Did they discuss the world news, any personal news, or something else entirely? Get drunk or just go their separate ways? Was the woman forbidden from seeing her co-host on days off, holidays and vacations…? Did the man, perhaps, secretly hate her? Or she him? — Rhett didn’t think that could be true, though the woman’s smiles to her co-host did look saccharine at times. She smiled one of those smiles before animatedly moving on from basketball and announcing their next segment and the presenter, Karen, who was on site in lake  _ Boheeny _ (something like that — Rhett hadn’t really heard or understood). It was in Slovenia, where one of the national skiers or other had gone to train in the Alps. Rhett almost tuned out into a daydream when the camera showed Karen standing in front of a long stretch of dark blue water, out of which mountains rose in the distance, a misty, green trim of evergreen at the bottom of the rocky formations. The scene instantly reminded him of one of his favourite set-pieces, a poster of an alpine scene that hung behind him in the studio. The poster said Österreich, which Rhett believed stood for Austria, but it was alpine still.    
  
He scalded his mouth when taking a sip of his tea, soon tuned out almost entirely. Just hearing the word “Alps” made him think of goats and cows in rugged pastures, snow-covered wood, squat cabins, warm milk. He imagined the cold, bitter bite of alpine winter on his face as he slid down a slope, Link on a snowboard next to him... while listening to Karen ask the skier, “Tell us more about why you’re here...”   
  
“Well, I am skiing the Snow Queen in Croatia in January,” she elaborated, “So we thought we may as well have a holiday in the neighbourhood. I might do some condition training but right now we’re just focusing on having a relaxed Christmas-time.”   
  
Karen nodded, sporting a dopey smile. “Who are you here with?”   
  
“My team!” The skier smiled, looking off to somewhere behind the camera, “They are the best, we got together and had an amazing Christmas dinner together just last night — I just hope they don’t get sick of me by January.”

 

The women giggled in the background as Rhett put his tea down and pulled out his phone.   
_  
_ _ slovenia alps _

 

What he could see behind the two women was what he could see when he pulled up  _ images  _ on Google — something that had reminded him of the small-town, riverside look of Buies Creek, yet far away and mystical, just different enough to offer something fresh.

 

That was kind of what spurred this on. The week was stretching on without Link, and there was still more of winter to go. Rhett could ask them to void the veto on joint vacationing.

  
He briefly paused his googling to consider just taking Link back home to Buies Creek but quickly decided against it. If things (and God forgive Rhett for even thinking this) somehow turned out sour — he really couldn’t predict Link nowadays — it would mar precious memories from when they were younger and Rhett wanted those very much intact.

 

* * *

  
  


If you could look past the "the nerdy, wimp one" aura surrounding Link when watching  _ Good Mythical Morning _ and really see him as a person, you knew just as Rhett did about how formidable he was. Rhett was entirely serious in regarding Link as both arresting and inspiring, but Link would naturally never know about that.

 

“Oh, because I didn’t go with you the first time?” Link asked the next day, after Rhett had suggested he briefly come over to Link’s in the morning to  _ just quickly sort out some stuff for work. _ He hadn’t lied. Kind of. 

 

When asking the question, Link looked maybe even a little… _touched?_   
  
Which Rhett had to admit was sweet, but tough luck, because Rhett _had_ to scrunch his face up in mock-offense, “You know that’s another country, right? Slovenia? I went to _Slovakia.”_

 

Link looked a tad flustered, and Rhett should maybe have felt bad, but all he’d done was correct Link. What else was he to do?

 

“I know it’s a different country. I pro’ly heard you wrong on the phone,” Link mumbled. “Thought we were going to Slovakia.”

 

“Mmm,” Rhett hummed sardonically, and didn’t rein in the chuckle quickly enough. He could see Link’s mood turning sour, which was the last thing he wanted as he convinced Link to indulge him with his company on a trip that was supposed to be balmy for Link’s mood around Rhett. 

Rhett tried for humorous, nudging Link as he grinned and softly went: “Just checkin’, bo.”

 

Link shook his head disapprovingly, but there was a hit of a smile to the tight line of his lips. Link had, after all, said he thought they  _ were going, _ and even if they changed it up and went to Slovakia, Rhett wouldn’t mind in the least.

 

“The idea is like… Hallmark-movie-bad,” Link said, making Rhett laugh. Link was wearing a proud smile when he added, “two guys who hate each other go into an isolated cabin in the mountains where they have to cooperate to survive, and that is how they realize they might, actually, kinda like each other.”

  
Rhett gulped. “You hate me?” it came out of Rhett’s dry mouth instantly after Link stopped speaking. Rhett could have almost given himself a high five with how smug it ended up sounding, like he knew Link could never hate him. Which, up till recently, would have been true.

 

“Shut up,” Link said with an eye-roll, no doubt picking up on the smugness. “I wasn’t done. I’m not saying no to trying it.”   
  


Rhett pressed his lips together in a small smile and nodded before clapping Link on the shoulder. 

 

As a joke, Link did a little shrug away. Must’ve been a joke.

 

“Better that you book us a vacation than into couples’ therapy,” Link said and followed it with a long, dramatic exhale. Link had his arms wrapped around himself, as if he was holding himself. Rhett knew from Link’s tone that it was intended as a joke, but there was concern written all over Link. Did Link think they might actually need therapy?

  
The thought of therapy almost made Rhett shudder. Rhett didn’t want his brain picked — he was afraid of what might be pulled out. And in front of Link?  _ Heck no. _

 

“Well if this doesn’t work…” Rhett teased, a tad shakily, bringing a hand up to stroke his beard.

 

“Maybe,” Link said, but it was without conviction. Soon he was smiling again as he said, “I acknowledge you inviting me and I appreciate your invitation…” 

 

Rhett laughed before shooting back, “I respect you and I would appreciate your company, bo.” 

  
The word made Link grimace, and Rhett almost cringed after saying it. It happened often with sweet words lately, which was one of the greater tragedies in all this… mess. They didn’t need to acknowledge how neither of them had called the other “ _ bo” _ in months. 

Words of endearment left a bad taste in Rhett’s mouth, like they were just hollow sounds, like it didn’t fit, like if Link was his brother, he should act like it and earn the name, like they didn’t know each other any more. Well, that wasn’t true. Rhett knew Link. Maybe he knew much more than he was ready to deal with, maybe he knew him so much that he was well aware of not being worthy of being by Link’s side.   
  
Link may have looked like he was the dazed, confused one but really it was Rhett who was lost, who lately saw himself as almost fake. There’d always been this feeling, but especially lately, brought about first by Link cutting his hair, and how comfortable he was with switching up his look any way he wanted.   
Freaking  _ shaving _ was enough to deflate Rhett and make him not wanna leave the house. Link, however, could do and did anything he liked with his appearance and just looked better every time, even if he did a complete about-face. Link’s interests were so genuine and he was so uncaring and — it riled Rhett up. Sure, sometimes Link did crack under societal pressures or unfairnesses or  _ bullying, _ but we all did. Whenever that threatened to happen Rhett  _ was _ the one who would punch the perpetrator (or do anything that happened after 3rd grade), but none of that made Rhett any more of a man than Link. Link was the brave one. Link's confidence was  _ frightening. _ Seriously! It wasn’t visible only to those who were swayed into thinking his carelessness was offhanded or came at all easily. Link did  _ care, _ he took everything in, but he still stood firmly with both feet on the ground, even if baring his soul to everyone.    
It was really his vulnerability that made him so intimidating to Rhett at times, and after all, part of it was why people related to him so easily. It was good for the brand.    
The brand also got on Rhett’s nerves lately. Not as much Rhett got on Link’s nerves, though, apparently. With how honest and open Link was, Rhett knew that when Link opted to do stuff on his own rather than with Rhett, it was what Link honestly wanted, and it made Rhett feel completely useless. He still had a use in the world, and a role in Link’s day-to-day, but he had started to fulfill all expectations listlessly. If Rhett had to be vulnerable for a second he’d have had to admit that even if all that was expected of him was to attend and be a co-host, it still would have been what made him get out of bed in the morning.    
  
Rhett would never have told Link any of this. It would have just been awkward, and though he knew that Link took his sweet words to heart, sometimes Rhett embarrassed him. This was one of the more embarrassing topics. Rhett had over-thought and was overthinking still. It was more than Rhett was ready to put into words, might’ve made Rhett seem like... like he wasn't treating his friend as strictly a friend. It was pathetic that even with all the boundaries in a usual friendship pushed to the limits, Rhett wanted to push those boundaries even further.   
Even more pathetic was how much he needed to be reassured that he wasn’t losing Link - and before Rhett got any ideas about how he was  _ not _ going to push their relationship over the limit, he had to fix the core of it, and he had to go back to the beginning.    
  
He'd devised a sort of activity schedule for them where they would build themselves from the ground up, and maybe at the end of it Link would see why Rhett kept saying it was fate they met and how incredible it is that they did. Link was real good. Link treated Rhett like a best friend. But Rhett treated Link like a miracle, and he didn’t want to be suppressed. And,  _ sue him _ , maybe he wanted Link to reciprocate.

 

* * *

 

There was a beautiful blanket of clouds over the ground, and with the sun just above it, the view from the plane window was horrendously bright. This didn’t deter Link’s sleepiness — he was out an hour into the plane ride. Rhett was looking out through the window at the beauty and took a few photos.    
  
And he took a few of Link. For posterity.

 

And then he looked at Link, mouth agape — Link’s mouth, that is. Rhett’s thoughts drifted to their strained relationship again, how now when they were most successful Rhett felt genuinely unhappiest. He figured that with this perfect job and fame and all that there was naturally some kind of a catch. It seemed the more successful they got the more Link was taken away from him by other people, whether literally or because both of them turned snappy toward each other under the constant pressure. It may have been a little questionable that he was literally taking Link to a cabin in the mountains, half a world away, to hide him from everyone's eyes but his own, but it was not like he was forcing Link to do anything — Link had agreed to it. After just a tiny bit of persuasion.

 

Rhett could not find a direct flight to Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia, so they had a layover in Frankfurt. Where Link almost lost his passport.

 

They had had a stop of about two hours in which they walked around the airport, not set on really buying anything, just enjoying the Christmas spirit present in the airport shops. Everything was decked out in decorations and lights, and half the products had a holiday version. Link was paying for their  _ brötchen _ — Rhett had googled half the names in the store to compare what it was called in English, and this simply translated to  _ small bread. _ He got five. Link placed his phone, a book he had been reading, and his passport on the side of the till as he struggled for his card, and Rhett almost said something. He knew Link would forget either of the three, but he was trying to be nice, leave Link be – maybe Link would positively surprise him. 

  
Slim chance. 

 

When Link collected their bread, jam and juice, he picked up his phone and his book — but not the passport underneath them.   
  
Rhett picked up the passport and after they had settled down in a seat in front of their gate, pulled it out. “You left this in the store.”   
  
“Wh—” Link’s face was one of alarm, he patted down the pockets of his coat before snatching his passport out of Rhett’s hands. 

 

“I knew you would, man,” Rhett couldn’t help but say. “I was watchin’ you-”

 

Link shook his head.  _ “I knew it, man, I was watchin’ you,” _ he impersonated in a mocking voice.    
  
As much as it was inflammatory, Rhett also felt a little humbled by it, so rather than keep fighting Link, he decided to stop. He really needed to stop. What happened to Link could have happened to anyone, Rhett should have just been proud that he was able to help his friend, that he had been there for him. Though that did make him feel like he was borderline acting like a little boy desperate for Link’s approval.

 

They ate in silence.

 

* * *

 

For the rest of the trip, they changed buses until they made it to the one that would get them to Bled, a lake close to the one which Rhett had seen on the television. They sat together in the coach, shoulder to shoulder. Link dozed off again and tilted his head toward Rhett, and Rhett kept his eyes on him. For some reason, once Link’s head dropped down onto Rhett’s shoulder, which he knew would happen, it annoyed him. Not particularly because Link was doing anything wrong at the moment — but this was what always happened. Link wouldn’t welcome his touch, he would talk over him, he would ignore his affectionate affirmations or straight-up compliments. There would be an air that emotional vulnerability was uncomfortable, and vulnerability in general was something to laugh at. And yet sometimes, Link would just touch him without a second thought, or any words spoken. Not to mention the things that would fall out of Link’s mouth… Sometimes Rhett felt like he had no clue how or what Link thought about him.    
  
Rhett let Link rest his head on Rhett’s shoulder, lest he wake Link up by moving and start another round of bickering.

 

He looked out the window, at the steadily darkening sky of the afternoon. They passed expanses of rock and snow, forests, grey meadows which turned into rolling hills, all against a backdrop of icy mountains. The lights of the highway were a mix of yellow and red, and the sky a deep, dark blue. The snow glowed on top of fences which separated the road from the landscape, and now and then Rhett would spot a hawk sitting on the perimeter. It got dark too early this time of year, but Rhett found that he liked that here. 

 

Link got out of the bus groggy, barely speaking to Rhett —  _ so same as when he wasn’t groggy,  _ Rhett thought bitterly — and as they started to lug their suitcases down the snowy path, he seemed to wake up a little, his face coming alive as he took in their surroundings. 

As they walked toward where Rhett’s phone told him their cabin was, soft snow fell around them, just a few snowflakes here and there. The surface of the lake was calm, all bathed in the blue light of the evening. Rhett kept looking between his phone and Link, who was looking around in clear awe, the colour of his cheeks noticeable even in the half-dark.    
Rhett had to agree that the lake was awesome, but really what he felt in the moment was not admiration for the milieu but relief that Link liked it.   
  
“Can we take a walk after we leave our stuff?” Link asked gingerly. As if Rhett would say no.   
  
“Sure,” Rhett said. He wanted to look around the area too, and it would be a healthy thing for them after a stressful day of travelling. “Thought we could go grocery shopping, too.”

 

Link hummed in approval, falling behind Rhett a little as they walked, still looking around. Link’s eternal curiosity and astonishment with new things were precious. Rhett slowed down too, because they had neared their destination, and Rhett had to make a call to the owner of the cabin to get his keys.    
  
“You calling the guy?” Link asked, and Rhett nodded as he went through his phonebook. He hadn’t even noticed that Link had moved up to stand right next to him until Link moved even closer, the length of his arm suddenly pressed to Rhett’s own. Link leaned in to peer at Rhett’s phone screen and asked, “You call your phone company about going abroad?”

 

Rhett shook his head, “Nah, figured my phone could survive roaming for a two-minute call.”

 

“But you’re using it for internet, too,” Link said, almost ticking Rhett off. But then Link was pulling his own phone out and saying, “Here, I called them. You know me,” he mumbled, smiling, still looking a little sleepy.   
  
“Thanks,” Rhett said. Rhett would have expected Link to make fun of him or gloat, but he just handed him his own phone, no words spoken, a serious sort of half-frown on his face as he took care of Rhett, and then his face lightened as he turned back to take in the scenery, his arm still grazing Rhett’s.

Rhett moved away to make his phone call.

 

* * *

 

They walked along the lake to the convenience store that was just down along the shoreline, close together, each looking out toward the lake at the adjacent shoreline as snow still fell around them.

 

“This has, like, serious  _ Misery  _ vibes,” Link said out of the blue, when they were about halfway down.    
  
“What?” Rhett snapped his head to the side, frowning already. He’d thought that things were going  _ okay. _

 

Link snickered, “The movie, man. Me, the genius, trapped in your cabin, you…  _ lady.”  _

 

Rhett huffed out a chuckle at Link’s struggle at an insult, but he had no time to be amused. “But it’s not  _ miserable, _ right?”   
  
Link shook his head, looking ahead of himself. “This place is like… a fairy tale. Alps, man.” 

 

He didn’t need to say any more for Rhett to get his smug smile back in place.    
  
The dim, scattered light of the few lamp-posts along the way became slightly intensified as they reached the more populated side of the lake, where streetlights were aplenty. 

  
And then Rhett watched Link’s face become aglow with the lights of the shop, and they got essentials — bread and several kinds of spread (including but not limited to concerning quantities of butter), beer, coffee, fruit, and plant milk for Rhett — there was only one kind, and both of them were fine with it — and whatever else struck their fancy. Before they left town, Rhett’s eyes landed on some firewood, so they bought some of that too. 

 

The snow decorated their hats as they walked back, and the cold bit their cheeks and noses until they reddened. Back under the lights of their temporary home, they laughed at how frozen the other looked, and Link reached up to dust snow off the top of Rhett’s beanie.   
  
“Hey, man,” Rhett said, laughing even though he backed away. Link persisted, reaching up and gently swatting at the top of Rhett’s head, and Rhett frowned as he tried to move away. When he realised that moving away wasn’t going to work, and with Link giggling like he was having the time of his life making fun of Rhett, Rhett grabbed Link’s forearm and crowded him against the door. He held Link’s wrist pinned to the wooden door, leaning on him with the other side of his body to immobilise Link’s other hand. Both panting, Link looked down from Rhett’s hat into his eyes, and then quickly wormed his way out of Rhett’s grasp. Rhett let him go easily.   
Link shook his head as if Rhett were being ridiculous, and turned to take his own hat off without another word.    
  
Rhett chucked wood into the fireplace as soon as they hung their jackets and took of their boots. He got to work on starting a fire, even though Janez — the guy they got the cabin from — said that there was central heating in the house. However, he had also mentioned that the fireplace wasn’t just for decoration. Rhett arranged the firewood and then added a paraffin cube the shopkeeper said would help him set a fire more easily. The shopkeeper had been right, and soon Rhett was stoking a small fire, moving the wood around until it was burning bright. The entire time Link had hung around, non-verbally offering to help. Rhett didn’t let Link touch it, no matter how much Link was adamant to assist. Link grumbled his way into a tangent about how he wasn’t a child, and how Rhett didn’t have to act all high and mighty and  _ competent. _

Rhett shoo’d him away several times but still kept looking back at Link who was amusing himself by setting their laptops up with wi-fi and popping peanuts into his mouth. Looking over at Link’s face, illuminated just with light from screens and the ambient, dim light of the fireplace, Link still looked a little annoyed.    
It was not that Rhett didn’t want them to do some activities together, it just can’t have been ones where Link would irritate Rhett if he burnt himself, dropped something on himself, or hurt himself in any other possible way.    
  


After the fire had settled, so had Link. They had shovelled some dinner into their faces and Rhett suggested that they sit down and talk before they can fight again. Which almost started a fight, again.

 

But with them having had a warm meal after a cold hike and a warm room illuminated only by firelight, neither of them were as quick to quarrel anymore. 

 

In fact, as they headed over to the couch in front of the fireplace, Link did something that was the polar opposite of starting a row. 

 

“I appreciate you taking me here,” Link said, leaning against the back of the couch.   
  
Rhett pursed his lips as he tried not to smile. “It was funny the first time, but let’s not actually start with the couples therapy crap.”   
  
Rhett thought he may have been a little harsh but Link just giggled and nodded, “I agree, man, let’s… not.” He said, like it really was the last thing he’d have liked.

 

Rhett crossed his arms and leaned in toward Link a little. “Though I do appreciate you saying that,” he admitted, voice like it was painful to do so. (It wasn’t — even using a therapeutic method to say it was easy, because it was true.)   
  
Link grinned. “Hug it out?” he asked, raising a brow.   
  
Rhett frowned, uncrossing his arms, but only to confusedly open his hands to the heavens, “C’mon man — why you always gotta make it weird?”   
  
“It’s a dang hug, Rhett,” Link said, brow scrunched but otherwise undeterred, “You won’t die.”   
  
“Now just because I won’t die-”   
  
“And there’s that study that proves physical contact is good for this kinda… stuff… you brought us here to do.”   
  
Rhett huffed and scratched the back of his head before stepping forward, opening his other arm awkwardly. Link nestled into it easily, wrapping his arms around Rhett’s middle. Link patted him on the back a few times before they separated, and at that point all Rhett wanted to do was go to sleep. But they still needed to talk.   
  
“Study says eight hugs a day,” Link added, shit-eating grin in place, “You do wanna  _ heal,  _ right Rhett?”   
  
Rhett shook his head annoyedly, “One, Neal. If that many. And if I don’t kill you first.”

 

Link nodded, lips still curled up in a smile, “Lookin’ forward to it.”

 

Link effortlessly settled onto the couch, so Rhett sat in the armchair facing him. 

 

“I know we said no therapy,” Rhett began, leaning all the way back but tilting his head down so he could look at Link, “But I kind of have a plan for us. I want us to do something we used to when we were younger, like, a new thing each day.”   
  
“Okay,” Link said, narrowing his eyes, looking half-skeptical and half-amused, “What’s the plan?”   
  
Rhett beamed, “It’s like you already know, man! First thing I wanted us to try was the rock system. Imagine this is the cow pasture…” Link smiled harder, so Rhett did too. “Whoever sits on the chair talks, and whoever sits on the couch listens and asks questions.”   
  
Link nodded, looking more amused by the second. The smile he wore then Rhett wouldn’t even label amused, it was more… fond.    
  
“What’s the rest of the plan?” Rhett didn’t know if Link was just curious or playing along, but either way it delighted him.   
  
“I can’t tell you. Yet… I thought it would be like, one thing a day kinda thing,” Rhett said, apologetic smile in place.    
  
“No, man, I’m looking forward to it,” Link nodded, settling back into the couch, punctuating his words with another smile. Rhett watched him. He looked comfortable. Rhett didn’t call him out on the fact that what he’d uttered wasn’t a question.

 

“So. Why did you bring me here?” Link asked, ameliorating his last gaffe by  _ finally  _ asking a question, looking to the side before his eyes met Rhett’s again. His expression said that he kind of knew, he just wanted Rhett to say it.   
  
“It’s called Lake Bled, man. Like the past tense of bleed,” Rhett said, adamant on not giving Link an  _ emotional _ reply.   
  
“Uh…  _ Very cool...?” _ Link asked, and Rhett let the statement pass off as a question because of how hard it made him laugh.   
  


“Shut up, man — you love it here,” Rhett said, scrunching his face up in mock-anger.   
  
Link took a moment before replying, probably forming his thoughts into a question. “Hmmm. And what if I did…?” he asked, and just like that Rhett was laughing again.    
“No, but, why didn’t we go to like… Joshua Tree?” Link said, putting his feet up on the arm of Rhett’s chair. Rhett spared them a glance, but didn’t mention it.    
  
“I’m sick of L.A., and anything near it,” Rhett admitted, “I started to associate it with work and I need a break. I started to associate you with work and as much as I love work it’s  _ exhausting,  _ man. I needed a break with you, not from you. So, yeah, I - I saw this place on the news, it looked kind of like back home, but still.... it was something new.”   
  
“Good news?” Link asked with a smirk.   
  
Rhett nodded, “Yeah, real good, some professionals skiing here.”   
  
“And now professional snowboarders,” Link said, wagging his eyebrows, making Rhett laugh. It was like the place was magical, they were getting along  _ so well  _ and it made Rhett want to gloat about being right, again. But he didn’t, which probably meant the place really was magical.   
  
“That wasn’t a question,” Rhett said, pointing an accusatory finger at Link.   
  
Link shook his head, brought his feet back down to the floor. He slapped his thighs and got up. “I’m done. I’m going to sleep.”

 

Rhett shook his head a little too, but for a different reason. Dumbfounded, he almost wanted to stop Link and bring him back down onto the couch. That was barely a talk! He struggled for something to say, because there was much more he wanted to say, and it was going so well.  _ It seemed to be?  _

  
“I wanted to bring us here because I think you feel it too,” Rhett said, grasping for words, “Something’s up, we’re fighting like we’ve never fought before, and then it kind of stops but never fully. I feel like if we don’t fix it now, it could be too late soon.”

 

Link stopped to listen, but then didn’t deny it. 

 

There was a small silence before Link said, “Like I said, I think some time alone is a good idea. So. Which room’s mine?” while pointing upstairs. 

 

Rhett got up too, “Either one. One of them has a double bed and the other has a single bed, and some bunk beds. I guess they only make cabins this size for functioning families of five in this country.”

 

Link laughed, and then gave it half a second’s thought. “I’m taking the double,” he said, turning on his heel easily and taking his suitcase from the bottom of the stairs.    
  
Rhett watched him go up the staircase, seething just a little. If this was going to work, Link needed to communicate to him as much as possible, even about the bad stuff. Mostly about that, probably.    
  
As the enthusiasm from a dozen minutes ago completely died down and Rhett ascended the stairs after Link in silence, he studied the back of his best friend. Link was all lanky and small and delicate. How could Rhett not be as protective of Link as he was? Link’s form was also familiar and looked very… comfortable. Maybe Link’s idea of hugging daily wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. In fact in that moment, the back of Link almost looked inviting, and if Link wouldn’t look at him or speak to him about it, Rhett could wrap his arms around Link and pull him in until Link’s back was flush against Rhett’s chest.

 

Rhett shook his head, and then rubbed the back of it when he made it to the door of his room. Link had already shut the door of the adjacent room behind himself. Rhett didn’t know why he was still so hung up on the entire day while Link just hummed a tune to himself as he got ready to go to sleep.

 

Rhett got ready for bed in a daze, deciding he was too tired of thinking about Link all day to think about Link any more. Their situation was no clearer to him after the day, but after all it had just been one day. Rhett figured he needed to give it time.    
  
Once in bed, the single bed across the room from the bunks, he unlocked his phone and swiped through some of their social media. They had debated whether contact with family should be forbidden, whether they should really just focus on each other entirely, but they’d agreed that minimal contact was necessary. For example, earlier Rhett had had to text that they’d made it over safely, and now he sent Stevie a short text to make sure she was up to date with how unavailable they were going to be. Then he set an alarm for the next morning and messaged Link some photos from earlier in the day, from when they were on the plane. 

 

Rhett grinned as he received the middle-finger emoji in response.


	2. two: drive aimlessly and blast the radio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> link doesn’t know if it’s the cabin, but he’s in a bit of a fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everything referenced here is pretty much the reality now, there's snow horror in austria (my heart goes out to those affected), there's 3 metres of snow in bonneval-sur-arc, "struklji" are a real thing, and it's the 20th anniversary of when Link broke his pelvis snowboarding. oh and also rhett and link's love and confusion. the realest.
> 
> sorry for the delay, this chapter was So Much. i hope you all like it! 
> 
> i love describing food almost more than i love describing link's love for rhett

Link thought he would have been the first customer at the bakery that morning, having made it over at just a few minutes past seven. However, as he approached the little house that housed the bakery, the bell on the front door chimed as an older man carrying two bagged loaves of bread and a bottle of yoghurt let himself out.

 

Link folded his hands behind his back as the let the man out, the man mumbled something to Link that Link didn’t understand and wouldn’t dare repeat — but he had said it with a small grin, so Link wasn’t too worried about it.

 

Link had got up at about five that morning and chalked up his easy early start to the fact that he had slept away most of the previous day on the plane. He had done his morning routine and then stretched around the house restlessly. He un-packed his suitcase and folded all his clothes neatly. He opened every closet and cabinet in the house, made himself a coffee — barely, the place didn’t have a coffee machine or a kettle and he had to recall how to boil water in a pot. He hadn’t bothered to keep particularly quiet through any of this, even though he was fully aware that Rhett wouldn’t have been as rested as Link, if he was to be _accidentally_ woken up then. However, Rhett either didn’t hear him or didn’t care to get up even if he had.

Link was bored and kind of lonely and he had just woken up so he couldn’t just go to sleep again. There was nothing else for him to do but to try to amble about outside so he wouldn’t amble right into Rhett’s room. _Accidentally._ Link figured it wouldn’t be very in-tune with the healing nature of the trip if he awoke the proverbial lion, on only the second day of their remedial getaway.

Link figured he could take a walk down to the town, get something fresh to eat. The previous night, he’d seen a bakery just a few minutes down the road. It had been closed and the foreign-language sign didn’t tell him anything but there was a mural of a cornucopia of all sorts of bread and pastries on the wall of the small house which had seared into Link’s mind. He googled for nearby bakeries in search of the one and found that it was to open at seven, which by that point was in a few minutes. He dressed warm and headed out – only remembering that he hadn’t left a note about his whereabouts for Rhett when he was halfway down the path to the lake, but figured he would be back before Rhett woke up anyway.

Link breathed in the freezing air with a big smile on his face. The sun was nowhere near to rising, but the sky had gained a little bit of colour by this time — it was dim, red-bottomed, blended into purple and then darkened to a cobalt in places where clouds hung. The snow that covered just about everything seemed coloured a pale amber, and as the sky languidly lightened, the murky lake almost began to come alive.

Link stopped for a moment to take it all in, taking a deep inhale of the nippy air. He was immensely happy to have been brought there by Rhett. It was like a place he’d always wanted to visit and he hadn’t even known it existed. But Rhett was asleep and _boring_ and Link couldn’t guarantee that he would be showering Rhett with praise if Rhett was next to him at that moment, but he was sure that it would have been… nice.

 

Inside the bakery, it was warm and bright, and smelled heavenly. Link’s glasses fogged up and he took them off to wipe them as he threw a quick “Hello!” to the short, stout, ginger lady behind the counter.

 

“Ana!” the woman almost immediately yelled over her shoulder. Link stood there, looking around after putting his glasses back on his nose.

 

“Kaj?”  a voice called from behind the door that was at the back of the bakery.

 

“Pridi sem!” the woman yelled, and waited until the door behind her opened. Out came a pretty girl, who took in height and chubbiness after the older woman, so Link figured they were related. Her hair was a brighter shade of auburn compared to the older woman’s, and tied in a bun at the top of her head. Her fringe stuck to her forehead a little due to perspiration, and her cheeks were almost as copper as her hair. The older woman waved a dismissive hand in Link’s direction and murmured to the girl, “spet Američan…” before disappearing out the door from which the girl had emerged.

 

“Zd- hi, hello,” she said to Link, and where Link expected a heavy slavic accent there was almost none. “How can I help you?”

 

“Hi, I’m sorry, I… don’t really know,” Link admitted, and made an apologetic grimace he hoped made him look charming rather than idiotic. “I wanted breakfast but, man, y’all have so many options here!”

  
The girl wiped the back of her hand on her forehead, messing up her fringe a little as she looked down at the pastries behind the glass counter, grinning and nodding.  
  
“What do you recommend?” Link scrambled to add, knowing he sounded way too elated. It wasn’t that he was particularly apprehensive about eating any of what was in front of him — it was quite the opposite. There were a lot of foods Link disliked, but pastries were rarely in that category.

“Well, there’s štruklji.”  
  
Link started nodding before she could even explain what it was, and leaned forward curiously.

 

“It’s a Slovenian special, I guess. Just pastry filled with cheese, or walnuts, or apples,” the entire time she was pointing down at square-shaped rolls, “or estragon — I think that’s what you call it,” here she looked up at Link, and he nodded to confirm it. Really, he had no idea, but it all still sounded good.  
  
The girl cleared her throat and went on, “So, do you want sweet or savoury?”  
  
Link shrugged, giving it a moment’s thought. “One of each? Maybe the cheese and the apple?”  
  
“Please?” Link muttered as an add-on, and raised his hand to push his glasses up with his knuckle as he looked at the baker bag him one of each, and before she could state a price Link handed her a five euro bill. Even though he’d been to Europe before, he still didn’t really get the hang of their change. _Ana,_ however, did.  
  
“I still need to get the hang of y’all’s money,” Link commented as she handed him the change, smiling a little. “I don’t think I could learn your language either, heck, your English is better than mine!”  
  
“Thank you,” the girl said, laughing a little, “I just spend way too much time on the Internet.”

 

“Oh, don’t I know it,” Link said offhandedly, thinking it ironic that she said that. He was about to leave the poor baker alone and go cure his Rhett-deficiency in some other way. He hadn’t expected her to recognise him.

 

“I didn’t want to say anything because I was not sure, but...” she said, grinning now, though her eyes were narrowed as if she were appraising Link. “My girl — my friend. My friend who is a girl,” he cheeks seemed to have flushed even more, “she really likes this show called Good Mythical Morning...”  
  
Link was suddenly beaming. “Gosh, not to toot my own horn, but it’s cool that we have fans so far away.”  
  
The girl laughed, “I was about to say you look like one of the —” the girl shook her head a little, smiling wide now, “I have to admit I haven’t seen a lot of your show but it’s seems very nice. You guys are so kind, you can just tell. And so… inspiring. I’d like to be more like you.”  
  
“An american, middle-aged loser?” Link asked, grinning, “Who can’t even tell a two-euro coin from a one?” As soon as he was in front of a fan, or, well, a friend of a fan, it was like he felt himself naturally becoming more of an entertainer. This happened often — it wouldn’t be too long before Link shifted into his charismatic self, trying for funny like he was back in the studio. Usually on GMM though, he would most likely be teasingly calling Rhett the middle-aged loser. Self-deprecating humour was not foreign to Link, but lately he felt that he got enough deprecation from Rhett. He wouldn’t allow himself to sink any further by belittling himself, even completely in jest, in front of Rhett.

The girl shook her head again, but now it was in disagreement rather than disbelief, “I saw you talking about moving across America to follow your dreams. It’s really brave.”

“It sounds like when I wear a really ugly shirt and people tell me how _brave_ I am,” Link said, smiling.

 

“Not at all, I really think it was cool. I don’t think I could have done it, it’s just… thinking of leaving all my favourite places and living somewhere new...”  
  
Link couldn’t judge. He wouldn’t have dared do it if Rhett hadn’t been by his side. So he said so.

 

“I wouldn’t have dared do it without Rhett.” Because after all, he could say it to others, if not to Rhett himself.

 

“I won’t even dare to tell my girlfriend that you are here,” the girl said, “she’s visiting family in this place called Maribor — well, it doesn’t matter, — anyway, unless she can come back early, it’s better that she doesn’t know she missed you. How long are you staying? Oh, are you here with your man?”

 

 _His —?_ The girl’s first language wasn’t English. Link didn’t think much of it. In her excitement, she had even called her girl friend her _girlfriend,_ Link wasn’t about to get hung up on it.

“Oh, yeah, I’m here with Rhett. My, uh, business partner. Co-host.”

Link felt weird calling him that, but to strangers, what was more explanatory? He didn’t feel weird clearly stating what his relationship to Rhett was. Link held the bag of pastries in his left hand, and his right hand was near that left hand, idly toying with his wedding band. “We’re staying for nine more days.”

 

“Just the two of you?”  
  
Link nodded, “Just me and him. Or, just me right now, as he’s sleepin’ like a log,” Link said, trying and succeeding at making the girl laugh. He thought he should leave her to work, when she spoke again.

 

“Did you want to get anything else? For him?” the girl asked, opening her palm to gesture at the selection.

Link felt embarrassment creep up all the way from the top of his hair to his toes. He hadn’t really thought of getting Rhett anything — and it was not at all due to the fact that he’d forgotten Rhett. Heck, he’d just waxed poetic about him to this girl who’d seen their show like two and a half times. It was just that he thought of Rhett so much that when he willed himself not to, blunders like this happened.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Link said, gently hitting his temple with the heel of his hand, “Can I get one of these for Rhett too?” he asked, holding up his bag. “One of each?”

 

The girl nodd, smiling. She must have picked up on the fact that he had completely forgotten but didn’t mention it.  
  
“Here you go, your business partner will love it,” she said, “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach...”

 

Link laughed and thanked her. He was still not that confident with foreign change so he just handed her another five euro bill, and told her to keep the change. She protested, but Link trailed off with a rebuff that she had been very helpful and so should keep it, and then walked out after bidding her a good day.

 

When Link came home, he found Rhett sitting at the table with a coffee in hand and his laptop in front of him.

 

“Where were you?”  
  
Link rolled his eyes as he put his paper bags on the little bench next to the coat rack before starting to unbutton his jacket.  
  
“Good mornin’...” Link mumbled, taking his boots off after hanging his jacket. “I got us breakfast,” he said, shooting Rhett a friendly smile. It didn’t catch on. Rhett looked at him a little less crossly, but still didn’t seem very amicable. It was very early still — Link had been gone for maybe twenty minutes. He wasn’t expecting Rhett to be awake yet.  
  
Like he was reading his mind, Rhett spoke gruffly, “You woke me up by slammin’ the freaking door on your way out.”

 

“Sorry,” Link said, making his way over to the table. He opted not to say anything, because he really didn’t think they could get out of a fight right now. Anything, which ironically included _nothing,_ was better than fighting.

 

“We forgot to put the fire out last night,” Rhett said sternly, as if it were Link’s fault. Everything seemed to be Link’s fault, at least in Rhett’s eyes. Rhett was so set on always being right and he was mothering — _fathering? —_ Link and bossing him around and it made Link feel inferior, though he knew he wasn’t. And he still trusted that it wasn’t Rhett’s intention to make him feel like that.

 

“It was almost dead when we went to sleep ‘cause we didn’t really add to it, anyway,” Link said, putting the bag of pastries on the table. He sat at the other end of the table as Rhett went on, “Yeah but, it still could have gotten out of control and burned the whole place down.”  
  
Link rolled his eyes, though he tried to be inconspicuous with it. “Then you should’a put it out, Rhett.”

 

“You distracted me,” Rhett said, eyes back on his laptop screen. Link looked at him for a while, and then instead of bristling, he just took a deep breath and apologised again, the edge of laughter he was unable to conceal in his voice. Sometimes Rhett’s brooding went a little overboard, and Link had no other choice but to make fun of it. Rhett’s _worry_ was terribly annoying, yet comically melodramatic. Link didn’t disrespect himself enough to call it sweet, though maybe it was a bit of that, too.  
  
“Sorry,” Link said, mouth curled up as he tried not to smile, “I got you some food to make up for it. Heard the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach…”  
  
Rhett’s gaze snapped up to meet his, but Rhett didn’t move otherwise. Until he reached forward with one hand to grab one of the proffered paper bags.  
  
Rhett brightened up a little after wolfing down his Slovenian delicacies. He did look confusedly at Link a few times, but at least he didn’t seem to be mad anymore. The food and coffee definitely helped, but so did Rhett’s unconcealable excitement about going snowboarding.

 

* * *

 

 

“Three people died, Link!”

 

Here’s the thing: Link was very into his hot chocolate at that moment.  
  
“This place in Austria, called Obertauern…” Rhett went on, showing Link just how well he’d read the news that morning. Link didn’t mind knowing, he felt very sorry for the victims, but he also _did_ mind knowing. One doesn’t want to be hearing about death in the Alps when they are trying to live in the Alps — Link thought that was a normal human feature. Rhett wouldn’t shut up, though, and Link wasn’t about to tell him that he was making his anxiety shoot up through the roof, so he kept quiet.

 

“Right at the other end of the Alps, man! Just up north!” Rhett said, raising his index finger to up as if pointing that the other end of the Alps was up. There was a bit of hot chocolate foam on the bottom of Rhett’s moustache — Link kept quiet about that too.  
  
Link turned his head and looked over the low, wooden fence surrounding the terrace they sat on. The snow was dusting the already heavily-covered ground, and off in the distance Link saw skiers and snowboarders drifting down the slopes, following a new one with his eyes each time the person he’d been looking at reached the bottom.

  
“Link.”  
  
Link turned his head lazily, raising his eyebrows and taking another sip.

 

“Wake up, man!” Rhett said, the petulance in his voice making Link laugh.

 

“So what are you sayin’?” Link asked,  “You wanna go back to the cabin? Too scared to hit the slopes?” Link gulped upon saying that.  
Maybe he was.

 

Rhett gave him an enduring look, “Nah, man. ‘m just saying. You gotta be careful out there.” _As if Link was about to cause an avalanche._

 

 _“You_ gotta be careful,” Link said, “Not even ‘cause I think you’ll hurt yourself, so stop talkin’ bout that,” Link said seriously. He _really_ didn’t like talking or thinking about that. He went back to ribbing, “You will be eating my snow-dust, though.”  
  
Rhett snorted at that. “Snowdust...” he repeated, but he was smiling, so Link let him be. Then Rhett added, back at it again, “Some people got snowed-in in that town, too.”  
  
“Hm?” Link hummed, running his fingers in slow circles on the rim of his cup. He didn’t mind hearing about that as much. So long as they had sustenance, he wouldn’t mind being stuck in this town with Rhett for a little longer, though he was bound to get sick of him by the end of this vacation. He was bound to. Or maybe this time the effect would be opposite, as he came to the trip already fed up with Rhett’s latest irritating idiosyncrasies. Anyway, this wasn’t Austria, and it was high time that Rhett shut up.

 

Rhett didn’t say much more, and when Link looked up at him, knocking his glasses up his nose a little to adjust them, he found Rhett following the motion with his eyes. Rhett looked at him until he saw Link looking back — when he promptly stood up.  
  
“You done?”  
  
Link nodded and got up, and they made their way to pick up their gear, and then to the slopes.

 

The only way to get up the hill was by cableway which took them up from the other side. It was quite a rickety lift — just an old chair with a metal bar to prevent anyone falling out. And then another, and then another. Rhett and Link looked at the slow-moving chairs before stopping one to get in it, and together they plopped their asses down and pulled the metal bar until it clicked to secure them in the chair.

 

As they rose above the alabaster hills, Link took a moment to take it in before a memory popped into his head.  
  
Link ran his hands along the frosted bar, looking down at the rolling dunes of snow which were occasionally dotted with evergreen. He briefly noted that Rhett was decidedly not looking down, but was gripping the bar with one hand, so hard that Link knew his knuckles were almost as white as the snow underneath the glove he wore. Rhett was looking off into the distance, and looking at Rhett’s face against the bright sky for too long had uneasiness tugging at Link’s stomach. Link wondered if he, too, had agoraphobia like Rhett.  
  
Rhett’s agoraphobia is what reminded Link of how Rhett’d always been less courageous when it came to snowboarding. Which also kept him out of trouble, and either way Link didn’t blame him.

 

“You remember the first time we went snowboarding, and on our third or fourth run, Ben grabbed the railing,” here Link patted the railing, and Rhett looked down at his hands before looking back up at his face, “and he slid all the way down the chair until he hung off the lift — and then let go when he grazed that big hill, and he just went down the incline?” Link asked, elated. “Man.” Link had slid down a little himself, in order to half-illustrate the situation to Rhett. Rhett looked at him uneasily.

 

Link didn’t know why, but he found this extremely fun. He’d always been partial to tomfoolery, especially when he was almost certain he wouldn’t hurt himself and he got a bit of a rise out of Rhett.

 

“I don’t think I could slide out of here now, my head’s too big,” Link allowed for one self-deprecating joke, but Rhett didn’t laugh.  
  
“Bo,” Rhett said in warning, looking down at Link, hands going tense at his sides as if he were stopping himself from pulling Link in. Link could see that his teeth were clenched nervously, even as he kept his mouth tightly shut. Link suddenly wanted to see how far he could push it before Rhett’s hands _moved._

 

“What?” Link asked, a little angry now, the angry making him frazzled, that making him testy, contrary, distracted, “It’s not like I’ll fall—”  
  
Just as soon as he said that, his ass slipped down further than he would have allowed it to, the chair slick with melted snow. The bar stopped him from sliding out completely, but that wasn’t the only thing. As soon as the bar hit his sternum, he felt strong fingers gripping his bicep, the wind nearly knocked out of him as Rhett used his other hand to grab the front of his jacket and pull Link in. Rhett pulled him up as easily as if he were a rag doll.

 

Rhett’s eyes, cold in the light of the morning, stared down into Link’s own. Neither of them moved for a while, and Rhett seemed to be struggling to even out his breathing more than Link was. He clenched Link’s jacket until he was sure that Link was sat down securely, and then released him with a patient, only slightly dramatic, sigh.  
  
Link had only been trying to dissolve some of the tension, but he realised then that he’d gone about it completely wrong. He’d much rather have made Rhett happy than made him laugh, and it worked best when one led to the other.

 

Rhett gave Link a look that was spread exactly fifty-fifty between anger and disbelief, and though Link still felt Rhett had no right to dad him, he felt the guilt clogging up his throat. Rhett’s voice wasn’t even half angry, though. “You —” he seemed unable to speak for a moment, but then just sighed. “You know what date it is today?”  
  
Link had left his phone in a locker where they got their gear, he had no way of checking. “Uh…” He tried not to think about the fact that he’d almost just plummeted to his death, or at least serious injury.  
  
“It’s the eighth of January,” Rhett said, _knowingly._ “You remember what happened _exactly_ twenty years ago today?”

 

Link might not have remembered, especially because it had left him dazed for days, had Rhett not written an entire script about his experience of it. “I broke my pelvis…” Link said faintly, speaking as soon as the memory came to him. And he had to admit that it was kind of cool that Rhett _knew_ that.

 

“You tryna do that again?” Rhett asked, soft as it was admonishing. There was an edge of something to his voice, and if Link didn’t know better he’d say Rhett sounded anxious. He definitely sounded like a dad, though.

 

Link scrunched his face up, “Is that a threat?” he teased.  
  
Rhett just turned away, shaking his head. Link knew that it was in disapproval rather than as an answer to Link’s joking question. The lift stilled and Rhett raised the bar up over their heads without a word. They climbed off and strapped into their boards. Link never got an answer.

 

The colder they got, the more they warmed back up to each other, during the several runs down the slope and back up. As the wind whipped at their faces and their boards cut the snow, they laughed and lauded each other, Rhett broke the ice on that one to comment on how you could never tell Link had once broken his pelvis. As a thank you, Link decided to be nice and stop squirming in the cable car.

  
After lunch time had passed with them snowboarding, Link started feeling the effects of it and suggested they call it a day. Rhett’s smile didn’t wane as he agreed, or all the way back to town in their rental car, singing along to Brooks and Dunn. It only faltered once they were out of the car and walking down to where Link’s phone said was a traditional restaurant, and Link got cold. He didn’t know how he hadn’t been as cold at a place where the temperature was definitely lower — could have been that the adrenaline left him, he’d gotten used to the warm car, or because he was still a little sweaty from the exertion of the morning. In any case the cold seeped down to his bones, and he turned jittery again, but this time in order to try to warm up. He crossed his arms and rubbed his hands over them, shivering.  
  
“You cold?” Rhett asked. Link ignored it.  
  
“What do you wanna do after lunch?” Link asked. It felt a little weird calling it lunch, when it was mid-afternoon and the sky was already darkening a little.  
  
“Well, today I wanted us to drive around and listen to music we used to listen to,” Rhett said, “Not Merle. Merle’s for another day,” Rhett said, grinning lopsidedly, but still giving Link that _involved_ look. Link ignored it.

 

“We kinda did drive around and listen to music,” Link said.  
  
“True. We could just go back to the house.”  
  
“No,” Link shook his head, “Let’s drive up to the castle.” Link knew that Rhett had seen it — it was an ancient thing, sitting on a gorge that rose out of the emerald foliage at the other end of the lake.

 

“Alright,” Rhett said, and then just like that he went back to mothering, “You want my jacket? I’m not that cold.”

 

Link shook his head. Cold and hungry, he decided to speak too. Perhaps it would be ameliorative if they just freaking fought it out.  
  
“Stop trying to mother me,” Link said, “I’m not a freakin’ baby.”

 

Rhett huffed out a laugh, “Maybe don’t put your life in danger and I —”  
  
Link rolled his eyes and looked away when he felt tears prickle at his eyes. He didn’t cry, even though he was frustrated enough to want to. He took a step back and walked over the one of the benches along the walkway, and then just sat down.  
  
“What are you doing?” Rhett asked, looking over to him but not moving closer.

“Go get your lunch. Get some rest from me,” Link spat. “That way you won’t have to deal with my annoying eating habits, either.”

 

“What the —”  
  
“You ever notice how,” Link was seething. He was not going to cry. He turned it over in his head, wondering if he should even say anything.  
  
“How what?”  
  
Link spoke quickly, looking through Rhett. “How in one of the panels when someone asked us what we wanted to change about the other one you said you’d wanna change the way I eat and I said —” _Breathe._ “I said that all I want is for it to be left alone. For you to just accept that I just — just might be that _annoying.”_

 

“You seem to forget that I also said I wouldn’t change a thing about you!” Rhett all but yelled, and even if he understood the exasperation in Rhett’s voice, Link couldn’t get it down.  
  
“Yeah, your tone now says you really mean that.”

Rhett half-turned, looking out into the street, taking a step to the side. His shoulders rose with the intake of a breath and then they dropped back, and then Rhett took a few steps toward Link until he could sit down next to him on the bench.  
  
Rhett said, to his feet, “You know I don’t really mean those things. It would be like, like, I don’t know…”  
  
Link looked to the side at Rhett who was staring ahead at the lake. Again, just like on the cable car, Link’s insides felt light, he almost felt a little queasy, but not quite. He couldn’t describe what he felt like, but it wasn’t exactly a new sensation.  
  
Rhett smiled a small, embarrassed smile. “You can’t take this stuff seriously. I mean, it’s not… I don’t think you’re anything short of the best person I know. It’s just so funny. You’re freakin’ weird, and you can’t fight me on that. When I tease you about crap, it’s just… I know you better than everyone, especially your annoying parts. Teasin’ is something we’ve always done, and lately we’ve become so sensitive and I don’t know why but I don’t think badly of you, ever. But I can’t just keep being nice to you and saying “I love you” every five minutes,” Rhett’s voice waned a little then, “That would just annoy you even more…”

 

Link gaped at him. He cleared his throat, then, tearing his gaze away from Rhett when Rhett finally faced him. “I know,” he said softly, and then forced gruffness into his voice. “I’ll allow it just ‘cause I know how insecure you really are.”  
  
Rhett chuckled, and Link turned to face him. “I mean you still haven’t recovered from when I dropped everything to go and be your roommate at NC state,” Link said with a grin, but it made Rhett’s smile fade. _“Link, you’re so brave, Link—”_

  
“You regret doin’ that?” Link could tell that Rhett thought he was being serious.  
  
“No,” Link said quickly, shaking his head for emphasis, “Not even a little bit, never. But don’t deflect, just admit I’m better—”

 

“Cold, Neal. Cold,” Rhett said, smiling.

 

“Stop deflecting.”  
  
“Wow, you really are cold,” Rhett said, mock-appalled. “Just like snow. Beautiful, but cold.”

 

Link’s stomach never felt lighter. Thus his question came in a breathy laugh, “H-what?”  
  
Rhett shrugged a shoulder, lips pursed and cheeks bunched up as he tried not to smile. “I read it somewhere on Instagram. I think it’s supposed to be poetic.”  
  
“Snow,” Link snorted, still a little embarrassed. He leaned down quickly and scooped up some snow into his hand, using his palm to shovel it up to Rhett’s face. “Here’s some snow—”  
  
“Hey—” Rhett uttered as a warning, “Hey now—”  
  
Link burst into a fit of giggles as Rhett shook the snow off himself. He wanted to go for seconds, but Rhett grabbed his wrists and pushed him against the back of the bench. Link stopped giggling. Rhett, still holding onto his forearms, pinned him to the bench almost like he’d pinned him to the door of their cabin the day before. Only Link couldn’t stop smiling now.  
  
“I’ll stop teasin’ ya if you mind,” Rhett all but whispered, and Link found himself watching the words forming on Rhett’s lips. “Don’t wanna make you feel bad.”  
  
Link shook his head, unable to really say anything. He looked up into those green-grey eyes, buzzing a little like he’d drank — like he was less inhibited. Within the next second, Link wrestled out of Rhett’s grip and led the way to the restaurant.

 

* * *

 

 

“There’s three metres of snow in Bonneval-sur-Arc!” Rhett said, in an amazed voice. “In France,” he added, making Link hum as he pretended to listen.  
  
_“What are the chances…”_ Link muttered.

 

They had come home and changed into sweatpants and t-shirts, Rhett had put a fire on while Link did his best to make them some more hot chocolate, and now they were on the couch, Rhett sitting on one end, legs stretched out and crossed at the feet. Link had been half-lying along the length of the couch with his knees bent and his toes just barely tucked under Rhett’s butt. It hadn’t been two minutes before Rhett grabbed his ankles and put Link’s feet on his lap.  
Link had let himself be handled, albeit a little grudgingly.

 

“A snowstorm could happen here, Link,” Rhett said. “What if we got snowed in?”

 

“We’ll just cuddle for warmth,” Link said. He didn’t really know what prompted him to say that.  
  
It made Rhett laugh, though, which seemed to be an uneasy feat on that day. Maybe the way to a man’s heart really was through his stomach — Rhett had downed two big cups of the hot chocolate Link had made him, and there had been no trace of his sour mood since.

  
“What even is a metre?” Link asked, looking down his nose at the burning embers of the fire. It was dying down, and as soon as it did burn out, they would be taking a drive up to the castle.  
  
“It’s like three-something feet,” Rhett said, and Link could feel Rhett’s eyes on him. One of Rhett’s hands came to his foot, and Rhett pressed his palm to Link’s sole. It tickled, making Link pull his foot away from Rhett before he brought it back. Rhett put his hand on the upper side of Link’s foot then, and slid his hand up until he could pull at the hem of Link’s sock.

 

Link wasn’t sure what had gotten into Rhett, but if Rhett wanted to play with his dang socks, Link would allow it.

 

“Gracious,” Link said, “So 10 feet? The snow in France—”  
  
“—is taller than me,” Rhett said, nodding, “I know.”  
  
Link rolled his eyes. Though Rhett finished his sentence word-for-word, Link wasn’t about to admit that. “That’s crazy. I thought you were nature’s tallest creation.”

 

Rhett gave him a smile. “I’m just the _pièce de résistance.”_

Link shook his head and got up, kicking Rhett’s side lightly as he moved his feet.  
  
“You want to go on that drive?” Link asked softly. He’d been having a good time, lying on a comfortable couch in soft clothes and a warm room, and Rhett relaxed next to him. But he had all this restless energy he didn’t know what to do with, or where it came from, and he wanted rid of it.

 

Rhett was immediately up, and he took care of extinguishing what was left of the fire. They got ready in a jiffy, and it wasn’t long before they were back on the black road, any remnants of snow glistening before their headlights, Brooks & Dunn trickling from Rhett’s phone. Rhett had suggested they switch to Lionel, but Link wanted to keep listening to Rhett’s immaculate impression of both Brooks and Dunn. Link mostly listened to him, joining in easily at times, feeling at least twenty years younger. At one point he opened the window, letting the cold air in as he stretched a hand out, feeling the wind whizzing through his fingers.  
  
Though they had an aim, which was to drive up to the castle, once they were there Rhett drove around on side-roads a little aimlessly until he found a secluded spot to park. The sky was a deep blue and the lake beneath it as dark as coal from the remains in the fireplace. The moon and stars shone brightly, the rest of the universe so vivid it seemed closer to Link there. With Rhett next to him, the feeling wasn’t far from the truth.

 

They watched the snow fall, just listening to music until Rhett broke the silence. “This place,” Rhett said quietly, and Link had to agree.  
  
“Yeah, man.”  
  
“You like it here?”  
  
Link laughed a little. “What the crap? Why do you keep asking? It’s not like the most beautiful view in the world is gonna change my mind… Suddenly I freakin’ hate it...”  
  
Rhett smiled at him. Link returned it, as ridiculous as Rhett was. Brooks and Dunn kept singing in the background, quietly.

 

_I think of two young lovers / Running wild and free_

 

Rhett leaned his elbow on the console between them, now a little closer to Link.

 

Link shivered. “‘m cold,” he muttered, slightly indignant that Rhett never seemed to be.  
  
Rhett just nodded and faced forward to start the car. Link leaned back and watched as the first thing Rhett did was crank up the heating before pulling out onto the road. For some reason, it made Link’s face and neck feel hot — ironically, not because the heating was now on. He couldn’t take his eyes off Rhett for the rest of the drive, and as they softly sang along to other classics. When the road ahead was clear and straight, Rhett would take a moment to look at Link and grin as he sang.

 

Back in the cabin, their feet brought them to their makeshift big-and-small-rock. Rhett was on the couch, asking questions, Link on the chair in a blanket as the house wasn’t as warm without the fire burning anymore.

 

“Why can’t you ever compliment me?” Rhett asked, and Link found it incredibly sweet that he just asked outright.

 

“I didn’t know nature’s _magnum opus_ needed compliments,” Link said, raising his eyebrows in challenge. Rhett laughed a Santa-like laugh, and Link just gave him a smug look; Link could say smart words too. “ _Pièce de résistance”_ Link’s ass.

 

“What if I do?” Rhett asked, leaning back in the couch.  
  
Link rolled his eyes like the toughest toil he’d ever had to endure was uttering something nice to Rhett. “I like your hair like that,” Link said, referring to Rhett’s helmet hair. Rhett had had a shower after they’d come to the cabin from lunch, and hadn’t styled his hair up. “You should wear it like that more often.”  
  
Rhett nodded. “Should I?” he asked, just to ask, Link figured.  
  
“Yes,” Link confirmed, feigning annoyance, “And —” he stopped in frustration, “What do you want me to say, man? You know I think you’re… you. _Nothin' short of the best person I know.”_ Link put on a goofy tone as he mimicked what Rhett had said to him earlier. He fully reciprocated.  
  
“What if I didn’t feel like that’s true?” Rhett asked gruffly, “Lately?” he added. And Link had to admit he saw why, seeing as Link cringed while saying that just now. Only because he wasn't used to saying it. Yet.

 

“Then I’ll repeat it until you believe me,” Link said. This much was true.  
  
Rhett raised his eyebrows. “Serious?” there was a hint of a smile tugging at Rhett’s lips, and Link had to roll his eyes again.

 

Link stood up, looking away from Rhett.

 

“Good talk,” Rhett said, standing up after him, that smile still adorning his face. Link stopped and half-turned, and Rhett slid one arm around Link’s back. Link put his hand up around Rhett’s shoulders in a half-hug which wasn’t as awkward as Link would have expected it to be, until Rhett slid his hand further around Link and groped at his chest, bursting out laughing when Link shoved him away.  
  
Rhett just smiled and looked at him as he walked away and up the stairs, and Link apparently forgot how to form the words “good night” with his stupid mouth. But Rhett’s stupid mouth hadn’t bit him a good night either, Rhett was just smiling, and looking back at him, until he was gone behind the door of his room, leaving Link alone, leaving him instantly lonely, leaving him with crazy thoughts of accidentally ambling into Rhett’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading <3 let me know if this is hittin' the spot!


	3. three: wrestle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alt. title: hitchcock's birds

The snow had covered the town heavily overnight. Rhett was looking out the window at the expanse of bright land in their backyard, at thick layers of snow weighing down the branches of the few pine trees that grew out of the cold ground. Link was putting his outerwear on, and called Rhett out of his stupor once he was done. Rhett blinked his glazed eyes to snap out of it, set his mug down on the windowsill, and crossed the living room to follow Link out into the cold air of morning. 

 

Rhett had woken up with a dull ache in just about every muscle in his body, but especially his quads. He didn’t mention it to Link or ask if Link was in the same predicament, but he was glad that all Link had suggested they do so far was go grocery shopping, with no talk of imminent snowboarding at all.

 

They walked along the lakeside in silence, shivering under the deceitful sun. However, not even the cold could ruin their stroll, both of them still looking around in awe at their milieu, Rhett’s gaze falling onto Link’s distracted, averted head so often that he didn’t know if he was awestruck by the scenery or Link amongst it. Link had skipped shaving and Rhett almost said something about how handsome he was with the dark stubble adorning his face.   
  
The few houses in the town were fairly modern, but still looked quaint— especially as they rose among the snow-covered flora, their roofs capped with snow. The local fauna showed its presence in the form of a brown quail that jumped just a few feet in front of them before running up into the forest. Link laughed, a little breathless, looking out into the forest as they walked up to the shop. Rhett opened the door for him, overcome with the sudden desire to let Link enjoy the view unhindered by even the tiniest trouble. 

 

When Link stumbled into the artificial light and colours of the store, Rhett still couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

 

Link made Rhett buy his own shampoo and shower gel — Link had thought to bring his own, he always did, wherever they went — for this time Link wouldn’t share his out of spite. He had warned Rhett that no one would provide him any toiletries, but it had fallen on deaf ears. Rhett let Link choose his cleaning products, bagging the ones Link thought were best-scented. He was watching Link with a fond smile as Link popped open lids and sniffed at brightly-colored gels, brow furrowed as he clearly took his shampoo-selecting very seriously. 

 

Rhett also let Link drag him to one of the local bakeries even though their hands were full with heavy bags, and he let Link buy them an entire cake —  _ Sachertorte, _ the girl working the till explained, _ a special type of Austrian cake, _ the original recipe of which was top secret, which was not an issue as her grandma made it better than they did in Vienna, allegedly. 

 

Link was beaming on the way home, crunching through the snow with a spring in his step as he carried his dumb, fancy cake; and Rhett couldn’t take his eyes off Link’s dumb, beautiful smile, grinning himself even as he lugged two heavy bags of food  _ (and shampoo).  _

 

As Rhett unpacked their haul, Link went around the house, collecting dirty mugs and glasses, and then got to washing the dishes. 

They ate lunch in companionable silence, and then relocated to the living room where Rhett built a fire in the fireplace.    
  
Rhett was too tired to suggest that they do anything else, especially not the thing that was on his list for the day, with the soreness in his muscles still present. It wasn’t long before Link was dozing on the couch with Rhett watching him from the the armchair, idly leafing through a booklet on the beauties of the lakes of Bohinj and Bled. He picked up his phone to browse social media and text his wife to let her know Link and him hadn’t killed each other yet. There was more weighing on his mind but it would have been idiotic to even try to put it into text, when he didn’t even know how to put it into thoughts. He put his phone away, not waiting for a response, and looked at Link’s sleeping face, hoping it would help him doze off too. 

 

* * *

 

It was just past noon when Link finally woke up from his early nap, and Rhett figured it was because of the sounds of Rhett’s playing. Rhett was sitting further away from the kitchen table than usual with his long legs crossed on top of it. As he anticipated Link’s arrival he thought he looked quite cool, lazily strumming his six-stringed companion. (Rhett had brought his guitar case aboard the plane, even though Link rolled his eyes and told him that once they were there Rhett would probably forget about it, have no time to play anyway, and overall regret lugging it across the world.)

  
Rhett tilted his head toward the sound of Link in the living room, but didn’t turn to look behind himself to look for Link with his gaze — he stared out the kitchen window which was clouded with frost, waiting for Link to cross the path of his gaze, step into the kitchen and into the patch of pale sunlight which fell from the window and onto the floor.

 

Link wandered into the kitchen yawning and rubbing his eyes. Rhett couldn’t find it in himself to truly feel bad — he had been bored senseless, and playing guitar seemed to alleviate that both by itself and because it had blessedly woken Link up. 

 

Link snorted at the sight of him. “Whatcha playin’?” he asked, grinning and looking over his shoulder as he went to pour himself a glass of water.   
  
“Just some old hits,” Rhett said, smirking. “Classics.”   
  
“Oh?” It seemed to peak Link’s interest. He raised his eyebrows and sat at the opposite end of the table. He poked one of Rhett’s feet with his finger, making Rhett laugh as he recoiled. “People eat here, man,” Link admonished, and Rhett couldn’t tell if his annoyance was real or faux.

 

Rhett put his feet down and outstretched them on the floor, still sitting slumped in his chair, head leaning out to the side a little, looking away from Link as he began to strum. He did his best to focus on the playing, not looking at Link, even as he began to sing. 

 

_ “We used to have good times together,” _ he started in a deep baritone, voice a little on the silly side, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t taking himself too seriously, suddenly embarrassed about playing though he’d played in front of Link thousands of times. Rhett’s voice evened out as he went along. Softened.  _ “But now I feel them… slip away. It makes me cry,” _ Rhett wasn’t looking at Link.  _ “To see love die—” _   
  
Rhett raised his eyes from his instrument to chance a glance at Link as he sang,  _ “So sad to watch good love go bad.” _

 

Link crosses his arms and let out a huff that cut Rhett’s strumming short.   
  


“It’s kinda relevant,” Rhett said, tone teasing, grinning until Link all but snarled at him.

 

“To who? It’s not like we were ever in love,” Link said, sitting up a little straighter as he cast his eyes down, as if embarrassed he’d said it in that way. “We’re more like the guys singing it,” Link muttered, like he often did to alleviate the tension of things like love being mentioned, tapping against his glass of water with restless fingers. Rhett knew what that meant.  _ More like brothers. _

 

_ “I  _ love you,” Rhett said easily, inflicting the “I” as if challenging Link to try and tell him that he didn’t love him too. A few months ago, he would never have expected his singing a simple, old Everly Brothers song would have resulted in this.   
  


Link gave him a long-suffering look, but behind it there was something else, that Rhett was almost afraid to acknowledge. But it was unavoidable, how Link’s gaze was tinged with melancholy.

 

“I love you,” Rhett repeated. He didn’t know why he was always compelled to say these affirmations twice. It was like not getting a response  _ — reciprocation —  _ from Link, made him want to hammer it in. At least that way Link could be at ease, knowing that even if he didn’t respond, Rhett’s feelings wouldn’t wane. Rhett was fully aware of how he may have been over-inflating the impact of his sentimentality on Link’s general mode of being, but he wasn’t about to change — even if Link didn’t need to hear it, Rhett needed to say it. 

 

In the pale light of that kitchen, just across the table from Rhett, Link sat, still sleepy and dishevelled, his eyes tired but bright, the colour brought out beautifully by his blue pullover. He was glowing, even tired, even as he looked at Rhett disapprovingly, even as he was just… Link. Who rolled his eyes in response to Rhett’s proclamation of love.

 

Suddenly overwhelmed by a strong and strange feeling he couldn’t place, Rhett set his guitar down against the table and got up. He grabbed the backrest of one chairs closer to Link and picked it up before setting it right next to Link, and sat so that he was facing him. Link had turned to look back at him, Link’s knee knocking into Rhett’s own, but neither man moved. Rhett could see Link tense up.

 

“Let’s play a game,” Rhett offered, when he’d stared at Link long enough and he could see Link gearing up to ask him what he wanted. 

 

Rhett cleared his throat before going on, as all he got from Link was an eyebrow-raise.    
  
“In ninety-nine, when you hit your head,” Rhett said slowly, “you remember how you kept forgetting what was goin’ on every few minutes?”

 

Rhett never liked to make light of that event, as it was probably the worst moment of his life, the only thing coming close to it recently being the news of Link’s daughter having to go into surgery  _ (it had all gone fine, thank God).  _ Hospitals made him anxious in general, as he suspected they did everyone.    
  
He remembered, how before he knew the exact nature of Link’s injury, he feared that Link had lost all his memories and Rhett would be the only one left holding onto all of his and Link’s experiences. Their story would no longer exist in Link’s mind, and he felt like maybe Link would drift away. Even more so when he realised that Link’s short-term memory was impacted and he was unable to create any new memories. (Link knew him, but maybe he would choose not to know him anymore.) All Rhett could do was try and laugh about it, and Link urged him to laugh about it, ridiculous and brave even when he wasn’t fully conscious. Link had recovered, and Rhett tried to remember the event in a positive light, never letting on how terrified and alone he’d felt that one night when Link stayed in the hospital,  _ “coming to” _ every two to five minutes, making Rhett fear that they wouldn’t be able to create any new memories together.

 

Rhett had to take a deep breath to bring himself back to the present, where Link grinned in front of him.

 

“Yeah?” Link narrowed his eyes, “Or, well, no. I mean yeah, ironically, I remember. I remember what you guys told me ‘bout it.”

 

Rhett nodded. His plan might not have been the best, because he didn’t really have a plan. He just… leaned into it.

 

Link’s mouth twitched in a smile, but then it fell off as Rhett responded.   
  
“I’ll say something, and each time I’m done, you can reply, or ask me whatever you want. But then you gotta forget about it.”

 

He hoped that Link could lean into it with him.   
  
Link gulped. “What do you mean?”   
  
In a room that was so silent Rhett felt like he could hear his own heartbeat, his voice felt far too loud. “What I said. Forget it forever, never bring it up.”

 

Rhett could tell by the way Link looked at him that he was searching for an answer. Maybe not a what or why, but a  _ how? _   
  
The one word Link responded with was, “Okay.” Short and unfeeling, not letting anything on.

 

It shook Rhett a little, almost as if chiding him —  _ how _ could Rhett ever forget this, or justify asking Link to forget it?

 

He almost backtracked and apologised, but he’d been giving into that urge since he could remember, so he pressed on. “Do you love me… or d’you,” he paused to inhale. “You ever felt like you could be in love with me?” Rhett asked, ears buzzing after the question left his lips. It was just far enough removed, just hypothetical enough to be palatable.

 

Link pulled his crossed arms closer around himself, his pout pronounced even as he uttered a cold, “Yes.” His gaze was anything but cold; it was accusatory and wistful, grounding but fiery, but above all reprimanding.

 

There were times when Rhett could believe Link was dazed enough not to understand the concept of a multiple choice question, but now was not one of them.   
  


“Yes, what?” Rhett demanded in a whisper, though the situation seemed to be clear enough. Suddenly he could feel desperation bubbling up inside him — he just wanted Link to say it.

 

“Whatever you want it to mean, brother,” Link said, frigid except for the sadness in his eyes, “You know everything.” Link’s voice faltered as he said it, and he attempted a laugh, but all that came out was a short, sharp breath as he looked down at his lap. Link must have meant it as a jab at Rhett’s propensity for being a know-it-all, but it rang differently in the air of the scene they found themselves in, and Rhett knew that Link could hear it too.

 

Rhett did know what Link meant, at least he hoped he did. This had been going on for thirty five years. Rhett knew Link, and he wanted him. He wanted it so, so bad. 

Using touch to relieve pressure would have been good way to put it. And there had been so much pressure to relieve lately, so much that Rhett apparently couldn’t think straight anymore. They just needed to lean into it, let their bodies take over. 

But they couldn’t, because even though he didn’t check his phone Rhett was sure his wife had texted him back. He was sure that whatever line he was toeing, Link would never cross with him.

 

Rhett was still looking at him so closely that he could see Link’s eyelashes fluttering just a tiny bit as he looked down. 

 

Maybe Rhett was overthinking, expecting feelings to be simple, expecting no one to understand, when he hadn’t even opened himself up to being understood. 

 

“I love you, man,” Rhett reiterated, quietly, leaning his head down until it was right next to Link’s, wishing he didn’t sound so  _ heartbroken. _ Link inched closer, his cheek brushing against Rhett’s. Rhett imagined dipping his head a little, Link tilting his chin up to meet him.

 

“Does this,” Link was whispering, “game extend to, um, actions?”

 

“Hm? You wanna hit me, brother?” Rhett attempted a quiet laugh, his heart fluttering inside his chest.   
  
Link shook his head lightly. He then turned it, and in a similar motion to shaking his head nuzzled the side of Rhett’s head. Rhett leaned into it with a sigh. His stomach twisted. 

 

“Do whatever ya want, bo,” Rhett breathed, hands coming to rest on Link’s hips. He moved them up Link’s waist, which Link curved toward Rhett with a hitched intake of breath. Sitting there prettily, Link was letting Rhett hold him, one of Link’s own hands coming up to rest on Rhett’s warm neck. Rhett pressed his open mouth to Link’s cheek. “I mean, guess we won’t remember, anyway.”   
  
Rhett had no idea what he was doing, but he didn’t want to stop. He was so unable to even his breathing out that he was starting to feel a little lightheaded.    
  
“True...” Link had his lips pressed to the spot just under Rhett’s ear. “I’ll forget in like a second.” His words were shaky, his hand on Rhett’s neck tentative.   
  


_ Jessie would be okay with this, _ Rhett thought, and then tuned it out because he found that he didn’t care. Link was, in the grand scheme of the universe (Rhett couldn’t think in any other way with Link in his arms,  _ finally), _ so hard to find — and Rhett had found him. Whoever he wronged by loving Link would have to forgive him.

  
Rhett pulled him in at the same time as he moved forward in his chair, until their chests were flush together. Rhett squeezed his arms around Link, and Link wound the hand that was on Rhett’s neck around, resting it on his shoulders.    
  


Rhett still didn’t know what he was doing, but he felt more at peace than he had in years, no matter how nerve-wracking the situation was.    
  
“What just happened?” Link asked after a moment of silence in which only their heavy breathing was heard, sounding shaken, and Rhett almost let out a humourless laugh — he genuinely couldn’t tell whether Link was still playing along, or if he was just referring to what they were doing.

 

Rhett felt like the moment was about to be broken so he leaned in and kissed Link’s cheek while he still could. Emboldened, drunk on whatever this was, Rhett whispered, “If you didn’t keep forgetting we could, you know... keep it goin’.” 

 

Rhett had never really had enough patience when it came to Link and he was beginning to see why.    
  
“Too bad my memory is terrible,” Link said, sounding aloof, but his lips came to Rhett’s cheek. He was kissing Rhett so well that even though their lips hadn’t connected Rhett felt like he was losing his mind. 

 

And then Link pulled away. 

 

“G-game over?” Rhett asked, voice catching as he attempted humour, hands falling away from Link’s lithe body. 

 

Link shrugged one shoulder, looking off to the side. “Already forgotten.” 

 

Link’s chair scraped along the floor loudly as he pushed himself back and got up, and suddenly Rhett could feel how much he’d hurt him by thoughtlessly leaning into his desire. He could feel it under his tongue, in his teeth, he could feel it in the way his cheeks went cold as his face drained of colour, the way his stomach lifted as Link rose from the chair, wholly enveloped in dread. The terrible shift in mood as Link gripped the back of his chair with a bit more force and inhaled, shook his head and then dipped it, turning his face away from Rhett. He left the room before Rhett could hear him exhale. Rhett knew that he was crying.

  
Backing away wasn’t an option. Rhett had to set things right, apologise, and even open up completely if there was no other choice. Above all, he had to show Link that he could be thoughtful in his desire just as he’d been thoughtless. It’s not like he wanted Link only with his body. His body was, actually, the last to catch up.

 

When Rhett stepped into the living room he saw that the terrace door was open. He stuck his feet into a pair of slippers and stepped out onto the terrace, the floorboards of which luckily weren’t covered by snow. The yard that stretched out before them a few feet away was, though, and Rhett could see that Link was shivering as he leaned against the wall of the cabin, looking away from Rhett as soon as he’d noticed him come out.   
  
“Link,” Rhett called, softly, noticing that Link had, just like him, only donned a pair of slippers before walking outside. “Come inside,” he prompted, as gently as he could, nearly unable to watch Link shivering from the cold.

 

Rhett took a step forward, peering around Link to check up on him, feeling positively idiotic.   
Rhett hated himself. Right down to the core — at that moment he couldn’t think of a more despicable person than himself. Not because Link was crying, but because Link wasn’t even allowing himself to cry in front of Rhett. His face was turned away, the thumb and index finger of his right hand pressed to his tightly shut eyes as he concealed his face from Rhett, his glasses resting on top of his knuckles. Link was willing himself not to breathe, and Rhett knew it was because breathing would induce sobbing. He wished he didn’t know. The only sounds Link let out were quick, panicked sniffles, and the occasional whimper when his body overtook and he couldn’t control his crying. He had his other arm wrapped around his own middle, his thumb digging just below his ribs as he half-hugged himself.   
  
Rhett considered himself the worst person alive by a wide margin. Still, he attempted to be funny, wracking his brain for anything that might make Link feel better. “Wrasslin’s on my list for today. You know I can just wrassle you back inside,” he said softly, moving a little closer to Link. The smile Rhett attempted was as painful as it was pathetic.

 

Link was quiet for a bit, seemingly attempting to take at least one semi-calm breath before he spoke, and Rhett felt like his heart was being torn out. Link sounded too broken to even be annoyed when he said, “Yeah. Why don’t you just do whatever you want with me?”   
  


Link didn’t need to say much more for Rhett to realise exactly how he made him feel. Suddenly, Rhett wanted to make himself so small that Link could step on him and squish him like an ant. “Link…” Rhett whispered, tilting his head toward Link without thinking. It took Rhett all he had not to turn away, or put a hand on his own forehead in despair. Especially when Link reacted to his voice, and turned his tear-streaked face toward Rhett. He still didn’t look at him, but it was a start. Rhett did everything he could to stay still and not dramatise, to not take away from anything Link was feeling by making it seem like he was annoyed with Link. Rhett’s despair frayed the ends of his patience, though, and to Link he must’ve sounded annoyed. “I’m begging you.” Rhett was. He didn’t know what the hell to do, it was pitiful how he basically needed Link’s help at helping Link.

 

Link pressed his lips together, quiet as he shrugged, again. He looked down his quivering body before muttering, “Sorry I’m so difficult.” The snappiness was back in his tone, and soon he turned his face away from Rhett once again. 

 

It almost ticked Rhett off. Almost. Which made him want to die — there Link was, falling apart because of him, yet there was still something inside Rhett that was entirely unsure of what to do, eternally frustrated around Link, thoughts of kissing Link’s wet cheeks occupying his mind. It was a vicious cycle too, because Link feeling bad left Rhett feeling bad, and being unable to fully express his remorse in ways he really wanted to made Rhett hurt Link even more. All of which made Rhett wonder how he could turn it around, how they could go back to how they were, what they are, what they needed to rediscover. Of course, there were also the things they were yet to discover for the first time, Rhett thought, and it made him restless.

 

“You’re not difficult,” Rhett said, moving even closer to Link, until if he leaned down he could press his lips to Link’s hair. Link didn’t move away, most probably because Rhett didn’t do it.

  
Link shook his head quickly, looking down at his feet again. Rhett could see him try for a defeated smile but he just choked off a tiny sob, and Rhett’s knees buckled instantly, hands coming up, face softening. He couldn’t control himself anymore, yearning to make this stop, wanting only to see Link alright again. He didn’t want to touch Link, but he also wanted to bend down until he could hold Link’s face in his hands, comforting Link until he felt better. But he knew his touch wasn’t welcome, and would only irritate Link. Irritation was all there seemed to be nowadays.

Rhett stood there, paralyzed with powerlessness. He stared at Link, still as a statue as he willed his lungs to function more slowly, willing himself not to heave. But again, he could feel it in his eyes, his nose, his throat. It burned. 

 

There was a time when all Link felt around Rhett was happy.

 

“I can’t fix this, can I?” Rhett asked softly, not because he believed it, but because he wanted to see if Link will confirm it, if Link really just wanted Rhett to leave him alone. But there was a catch, and it was that Link clearly heard when Rhett’s voice cracked.

 

Link was on him before Rhett could wipe his overflowing eyes.    
  
“You don’t... get to... cry—” Link said around a sob, finally looking up as he pushed at Rhett’s chest. He pushed him with probably a little more force than he’d intended to. A little too hard, or a little too inconveniently — the back of Rhett’s heel found a dip in the terrace floor, and he stumbled backwards over the small ledge. He fell asswards into the thick snow, but the dull pain he felt was nothing compared to the relief of having Link finally take his pain out on him.

  
“You freakin’—” Link moved after him immediately, his sobs ceasing. Rhett could see the concern on his face before Link wiped it off. The anger was back when Link walked over only to effectively fall on him, sitting on Rhett’s middle with his legs on either side of him. “Jerk—” Link’s hands came to meet Rhett’s as Link pushed him further into the snow, pressing down so hard that his frown deepened. 

 

Link was wrestling him, and it took all Rhett had in himself not to smile, even as his wet eyes let a tear escape. The back of Rhett’s sweater was now wet, but it could get as wet as it freakin’ wanted to as long as Link’s eyes were dry. 

 

Lips cracked, breath bated and foggy, shivering due to the cold, Rhett frowned back. The frown was still something he had to force, but did so he could better engage in playing wrestling. He let go of one of Link’s hands to push at his waist, but it made Link lose his balance and their bodies just ended up being pushed closer together. 

 

Link slipped down on top of him, coming almost nose-to-nose with Rhett. His glasses had slid down his nose a little and a lock of hair had fallen down his forehead, his own steamy breath mixing with Rhett’s. Rhett glanced down at Link’s lips. 

 

Rhett looked back up at Link’s blue eyes to find them fixated on something just a few inches south of Rhett’s own eyes. Link moved, adjusting the way he sat on top of Rhett so he sat back on Rhett’s pelvis, leaning forward and resting his weight on his free arm. Rhett studied Link’s face, his heart in his throat as he realised that Link wasn’t moving his eyes away from Rhett’s lips. Rhett sneaked his hand from Link’s waist to his back, gingerly pulling him in. Link lowered himself a little, until the tip of his nose brushed the tip of Rhett’s, and closed his eyes.

 

Something fluttered to the left of them. Link’s gaze immediately darted to it as he pulled away, and Rhett followed Link’s gaze to see a quail disappearing into the shrubbery.

 

Link closed his eyes and sighed, letting his chin fall to his chest. “What are we doin’, man?”

 

Rhett considered it quite admirable that he was able to be funny even when he could barely think. He turned his head to either side of him, unable to contain his smirk as he indicated the expanse of snow all around them. Trembling with cold, he huffed out a laugh. “Chilling…” he said, his hand travelling further up Link’s back. He kept it on Link’s shoulder blade, the wool of Link’s sweater warm and soft under his hand. He was so absorbed in the warmth Link provided him with that he didn’t notice Link using his hand to shovel snow into Rhett’s face until he felt it.

 

“Hey — watch it —” Rhett warned, laughing as he flipped them over so that Link was now under him.   
  
“Dang it, man! It’s cold!” Link immediately protested, “Get off!” 

 

Rhett obliged easily, not only because he could still see the dried-out trails of tears on Link’s face, but because he knew Link was freezing in that jumper. He turned and pulled Link back up on top of himself, but didn’t let him go.

 

“Only if you get off my case,” Rhett ribbed, because he couldn’t not.   
  
“Oh, I’ll get off, alright,” Link mumbled, and Rhett looked at him curiously. He knew Link could read the look, and it felt like one of Link’s trademark eye-rolls was imminent. 

 

Rhett felt like what he said next was something he needed to say. It was like giving into the innuendo would instantly have transported him back to set where they were getting along, even if just for the sake of the cameras. Link was looking at him with disapproval, but Rhett could see in his eyes that Link was amused. Rhett figured he could get away with saying it — if one did the mental gymnastics to see it as Rhett’s acknowledgement that he, himself, was wrong and should be the first one getting off Link’s case. Not getting Link off.

 

“We’ll both get off,” Rhett chuckled to himself. And then he thought about what was on his list of activities for the next day and his insides swirled a little. 

 

“STOP,” Link said sternly, wriggling out from Rhett’s hold. Link managed it easily, not at all because Rhett let him. Link was shaking his head, dusting himself off as he got up, but there was something Rhett caught a glimpse of that almost looked like the trace of a smile on Link’s face.

 

It made Rhett feel peculiarly warm. Like he could stay there in the snow for a while, and not even feel it. But he didn’t stay in, he trudged after Link and followed him into the warmth of their temporary home.

 

* * *

 

They went their separate ways, not really speaking as they got into dry clothes or as they both chose wordless activities to pass the time. At times Rhett caught Link looking at him, as Link caught him, but they didn’t address it. 

 

Later, when Rhett was sitting and reading in the living room, he could hear Link moving around in the kitchen. He set his book down, leaning his head back as he looked up at wooden beams that supported the ceiling, his ears picking up on the sounds of Link. Rhett watched the dance of yellow and orange light from the fireplace on the ceiling for about five seconds before he got up and walked over, at first just leaning in the doorway to see what Link was doing. 

 

Link had gotten hungry, evidently. And so he was trying to make dinner. Judging by the big-ass can of beans he was currently trying to open, he was trying to make dinner for Rhett, too.

 

“What are we making?” Rhett asked softly, walking over to take the can and the opener from Link’s hands.   
  
“Bean enchiladas,” Link said, handing Rhett the items without protesting. He went to peel the skin off an onion, putting it next to Rhett to cut once he was one. They worked like this in silence, Link handing the washed vegetables to Rhett to cut, Link making the salad as Rhett grated the cheese. Rhett put on some music, which resulted in the first disagreement in the process, though it was slight.

 

Rhett didn’t know how Link made it through the first few lines of the song, he was probably preoccupied with stirring the tomato sauce, but when  _ “I’ll do my crying in the rain,” _ rang out, Link realised what they were listening to and grabbed Rhett’s phone to change the music. Link swapped The Everly Brothers for Jason Isbell on Rhett’s Spotify easily enough — Rhett never had a password on his phone. Anything he had to hide from anyone was in his heart, had always been. And now some of it hung in the warm air of their new, alpine home. 

 

Link left the phone to the side in lieu of sprinkling cheese on top of their assembled dish, knowing to go easy on one half because of Rhett’s intolerance. They put the dish in the oven and went their separate ways again, music still playing from Rhett’s phone as they moved around.    
  
Once they were sitting down to eat, Rhett finally broached the subject of their fight from earlier. 

 

“I’m sorry about… today,” Rhett said, gulping as he watched Link plate his food. 

 

Link made sure his plate was full before he responded. Pushing his glasses up his nose, not really looking at Rhett, he quietly said, “S’okay.”

 

“You gotta promise me it won’t ever happen again,” Rhett said, keeping eye contact with Link’s eyelids until Link looked back.

 

The snappiness to Link’s tone was gone, he sounded exasperated. “What, now I’m not even allowed to have emotions?”

 

“Promise me that next time you’ll kill me before you let me make you cry.”

 

Link smiled at that, and nodded before digging into his dinner.

 

* * *

 

Link didn’t look as drained around Rhett as they put the dinner away, and when Rhett offered to make them hot chocolate while Link tidied up, Link didn’t stop smiling around him.

 

Once they were ready to relocate to the living room, Rhett went to stoke the fire while Link came up and fell onto the couch with a sigh.   
  
“I don’t wanna talk tonight,” Link said, leaning back. Rhett got why.

 

“You wanna wrestle?” Rhett asked with a smile, sitting down in the armchair opposite Link. 

 

“I didn’t say I can’t listen,” Link mumbled, tuning out Rhett’s offer.

 

“We can still wrestle…”

 

Link ignored him.   
  
Rhett raised his eyebrows and sat up a little straighter, but when he was certain that Link wasn’t going to reply he cleared his throat, ready to talk.    
  
“You want me to play for you?” Rhett asked, looking to the side where his guitar now sat in its case. 

 

Link rolled his eyes and gave Rhett a funny, long-suffering look. Rhett smiled back, giving Link a feigned curious look. He was fully aware of how things had gone when he had played for Link earlier, but it still seemed funny to play oblivious.   
  
“Tell me how you feel?” Link asked, taking Rhett by surprise.    
  


But Link was serious, so Rhett decided to sober up too. “I feel… good. I feel like we’re getting somewhere.”   
  
Link smiled in agreement and Rhett found himself unable to look away from Link’s plump lips, even as he kept talking, “I feel like… this is a place close to home, even though it’s so far. I missed having snow like this, no matter how cold it is. I missed it just being the two of us.” Rhett was getting lost in the lines of Link’s face, his blue eyes, soft hair, stubble.

 

“You did?” Link asked, in a tone Rhett could only describe as tender.

 

Rhett nodded, smiling, looking away from Link for the first time. “I feel like you’re a place close to home, man.” He looked back up at Link only to quickly add, “I’m real sorry for what I did today. Think you can forgive me?”

 

Link tilted his head to the side, smiling in a way that seemed to ask if Rhett had seriously asked him that. “I thought… Wasn’t I the one supposed to be asking questions?” Link asked, his joking tone making Rhett’s heart feel full.   
_   
_ _ “Wasn’t I supposed to be the one asking questions?” _ Rhett mocked, because Link was completely right.

 

Link gave him another one of those unamused looks.   
  
Rhett grinned, outstretching his leg forward until his foot was pressed up against Link’s. “Imitation’s the greatest form of flattery, brother. You gotta be stupid if you think I mean it in a bad way,” he couldn’t help but make fun of Link, because it was a thing he did, a thing he’d always done. 

As he briefly got lost in Link scratching his prickly chin, Rhett fully came to the realisation that his teasing was, in fact, just a way of flirting. It was still third-grader-level flirting, so not the best, and could end up coming off as seriously obnoxious. Rhett would have to change his flirting technique if he wanted to get anywhere — and  _ God, _ affirming that he wanted to get  _ somewhere _ with Link made his insides feel all weightless.

  
“So you’re calling me stupid?” Link asked, nudging Rhett’s foot with his own. Rhett suddenly felt the urge to move forward and climb on top of Link, straddle him, cover Link’s body with his own.

 

“No,” Rhett said, hoping his tone would convey he could never think that. In case it didn’t, Rhett said more, just to emphasize. “Link… When I point out everything that annoys me, I just… I’m happy I get to know you so well to notice these things about you. When I point out these little  _ — miniscule — _ things, I feel like it only puts into perspective how great you are. You can’t really think I seriously mind that you don’t like tomatoes, or that you wash your trash can... even if that  _ is _ a little gross.”

 

Rhett considered stopping, as he’d already pushed everything too far, but Link smiled at him. So Rhett shook his head, disbelieving that he was about to go on, and went on, “I should probably find another way to express how great it is to just watch you do all your stupid little rituals, how happy it makes me to hear about all the weird things you get up to. And calling you out is part of it, cause, how fun would it be it be if every time you you told me about your toothpaste lid or your any of the other hilarious shit you get up to I just said,  _ man, I love you so much?” _ Rhett asked, conveying, now with soft eyes, how silly Link was being. “You know I do. I couldn’t do anything without you. I’d be living a miserable life if it wasn’t for you, somehow even if we’d never met, I’d know something was missin’.”   
The thought of never having met Link made his insides go cold. It always did. “I should be offended that you can’t tell,” Rhett said, looking down at his own hands in his lap, where he was idly picking at the corner of his thumb.   
  
But when he looked back up, Link was looking at him so fondly that Rhett felt like things were finally looking up. 

 

“Now, I would like you to tell me if somethin’ hits a little too close to home, otherwise I’ll screw up as badly as I’m screwin’ up lately, and make you think you’re not as freakin’  _ perfect _ as you are.” Saying Link was perfect just after saying he loved him was a little too much, so Rhett followed it up with a gruff, “Alright, Neal?”    
  


“When you gonna stop asking questions, man?” Link asked, through a wide smile.   
  


“Huh?” Rhett honestly didn’t know how any of what he’d just said could be interpreted as at all questionable. “It wasn’t a question.”

 

_ “Alright, Neal?” _ Link parroted Rhett from before, in a funny voice that sounded  _ nothing _ like Rhett.

 

Rhett pursed his lips in a smile which he knew was too happy for him to even attempt to fake annoyance, but it was not happy enough not to be shit-eating. He leaned forward and patted Link just above the knee as he said, “Alright, McLaughlin.”   
  


Not taking his eyes off Link’s face, Rhett pushed himself up off Link’s knee and stood in front of him. “C’m up here,” he said. For a moment, as he watched Link get up, he thought about framing Link’s cheeks with his hands and kissing him, slow and deep. He snapped out of it when Link stood in front of him, looking up at him like he wasn’t sure if he could trust him.

 

Rhett wrapped his arms around Link’s middle and pulled him in gently, resting his chin on Link’s shoulder. 

 

Link stiffened, so Rhett mumbled, “Sorry, don’t mean to make it seem like I’m just doin’ whatever I want with you.”

 

And Link didn’t say anything, he just… leaned into it. He let his entire body relax in Rhett’s arms, sliding his own hands up until he could wrap them around Rhett’s neck. Link pressed his forehead to Rhett’s throat, and the way he slotted into Rhett’s was divine, the pressure of his body perfect. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, and it was more evident physically, if possible, than soulfully. Rhett couldn’t fathom how Link could think that Rhett would ever want to change a thing about him. Of course he freakin’ wouldn’t. It seemed, though, like all the pain they’d been going through was necessary because he’d never felt like this before. He’d been feeling something, something that urged him to push their friendship further and further — but for reasons he couldn’t justify in that moment, he’d never given in to that feeling. He didn’t want to dwell too much on the panic of what it might have meant for him and Link. He was pretty certain he knew what he felt.

 

He could tell by how tightly Link clung to him that Link felt the same.

 

Rhett just didn’t know if Link was ready to give into the feeling with him. Even though Link was still holding him, he was clearly too hesitant to say anything, or give Rhett any clear signs. Rhett didn’t really know what Link could do, and he had even less of an idea what he, himself was supposed to do. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t kiss Link. Even if he had his doubts that this tension that had been building up had peaked and he could finally acknowledge that he wanted Link in more ways than he’d cared to admit, he couldn’t just suggest that they try it out for shits and giggles. He would never play with Link’s feelings like that, but he had to tread very carefully lest some of his actions be misunderstood for just that. 

 

It was all a little new. It was foreign and that was why it was kind of scary. Link felt foreign sometimes, no matter how well Rhett knew him — sometimes his actions were indecipherable. Sometimes, Rhett couldn’t understand why he found Link so formidable. Link, of all people —  _ his _ Link, who wasn’t even his as much as he was  _ him, _ as much as he was one with Rhett. It was wonderful, and it was terrifying. And Rhett had always had a feeling of what to do, but everything he wanted to try, he couldn’t.

 

_ Funny; _ it was like homophobia. When people talked about it, they’d say you were not actually afraid of homosexuality, you just didn’t understand it.

 

Rhett didn’t understand Link, but mostly he didn’t understand his attraction to men. Or, well,  _ man. _

 

And even when he thought he could understand it, a single interaction with Link made that conviction crumble. Link always had nice pacing, a nice line he’d drawn, Link always loved him until a point where he stopped, until Rhett got lost and overwhelmed with all the possibilities. If Rhett looked deep inside, he would have had to admit that it left him eternally confused and ignored. Rhett wasn’t some sort of invertebrate, and yet he never found himself speaking out about it. As much as he thought he was protecting Link by never bringing any of this up, he had to admit that his own feelings were being played with. It had started to accumulate resentment toward Link, and Rhett didn’t even know if it was by Link’s own volition at all.

 

“What?” Link asked, so softly that it was almost inaudible. Link had moved back and was looking up at Rhett almost expectantly, and Rhett had realised he was staring. He was about to dip his head down and kiss Link, screw the consequences, when Link lowered his gaze to somewhere past Rhett’s shoulder and whispered, “Oh, dang.”   
  
Rhett turned in his arms, and Link let go of him.  _ “Shit,” _ Rhett agreed, looking out the window where snow was falling so quickly and heavily that it looked like they were in the middle of a snowstorm. 

 

Link let go of Rhett completely and retreated from their little talking place, and he paused at the foot of the stairs to smile at Rhett. 

 

“G’night, Rhett.”   
  
In a weakened voice, Rhett bid him good night back. Link climbed the stairs quickly and disappeared into the bathroom. Rhett wished he could wait for him in the landing, take him by surprise and kiss him goodnight, tase the minty toothpaste on his tongue. But he didn’t have it in him, at least not yet. It was very easy to blame it all on Link, but he’d pushed Link away as many times as Link had pushed him away. If not more, if not worse. Because he had been afraid, he still was, but at least now he was certain of what.

 

Rhett waited in his room until he heard the bathroom door open, and the door to Link’s room close, and then he went to brush his own teeth. As he got ready for bed, he opted to listen to some more music. Just as he was ready to head to bed, an Everly Brothers song played and Rhett stared out the window at the violent flurry of snow. 

 

_ You don't realize what you do to me, _

_ And I didn't realize what a kiss could be, _

_ Mmm, you got a way about you — _

_ Now I can't live without you.  _

_ Never knew what I missed until I kissed ya’. _

 

_ Uh-huh. _

 


	4. four: look at porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in the words of _thenthekneehits_ , this one made rhett's insides swirl a little

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally back after a long time! i hope it's at least as half as enjoyable as it's late <3
> 
> thank you to [mike](https://www.its-mike-kapufty.tumblr.com) for betaing this and making even tense-checking feel like the most fun thing in the world <3
> 
> and thank u B for liking this fic (and me) <3

Making dinner with Rhett had set something off within him. From the moment he woke up, Link was lost in thoughts of living with Rhett. He acknowledged that he should have felt guilty, but tried to focus only on the intoxicating bliss that daydreaming brought. Daydreaming had always been safe, anyway. 

He hadn’t daydreamt like that since college, his mind jumping over itself with scenarios of his and Rhett’s possible life together. And kissing. Lots and lots of kissing—in the morning, while cooking (suddenly, Link thought he might grow to adore cooking) or while watching couples in movies do the same. In bed at night, both as a closer to the day or a sign of it just beginning. Drunk or sober, in public or alone—

 

Link shook his head, a disbelieving smile on his face. He’d never left square one when it came to trying to undo his feelings for Rhett, but he’d had wonderful distractions that kept these kinds of thoughts at bay over the years. And then a few of Rhett’s touches were all it took to unravel him completely. 

 

No one could have blamed him if he’d finally done it, right? Just once, if he kissed him. 

 

But he knew it was himself who would have blamed him most, if he had—especially once Rhett decided the experiment was through. It would have ruined their relationships with their families, their relationship to each other and thus their careers, their relationships with so many people who depended on them for a daily pick-me-up. But Link knew that most of all, it would have ruined _him._ His chest already ached with jealousy, because he knew he couldn’t have Rhett just once. It was selfish, but Link never felt better than when he imagined them finally having it all, and having it forever. He wanted the girl from the bakery to call Rhett his man and for Link to know it to be true. _His, in every way._

 

It thrilled him to think that even before considering whether Rhett could ever want him in that way, other people had seen it. Some people genuinely believed that they were a couple. There was _something_ there, something that was perhaps ineffable, but nonetheless… _pretty awesome._ People looked at them and saw them in that way, saw Rhett wanting him in that way. Saw Rhett reciprocating whatever it was that Link had been giving without realising. 

 

Rhett always did bring out the best in him, no matter how much Link tried to hide it. 

 

Link grinned dumbly as he stirred his already-soggy cereal. Rhett. Rhett wanted _him._ Well, _possibly._ He wanted to groan just thinking about it. It was frustrating and it was uncertain, as these things went. 

 

Link worried that Rhett would give him whatever he wanted, because he knew that Rhett loved him a lot, in that familial way he had a propensity for. 

 

Link wasn’t able to stand the thought of only kissing Rhett once. Once was never enough, not with Rhett. It was why they did so many things together over and over, never satisfied after the first time. If he got a taste of what it could have been like, it would have ruined his life. He never would have forgotten it, just as he knew he could never forget what Rhett had done to him the day before. The feeling of Rhett’s arms around him and his lips on his cheek still made Link’s head swim, a sensation he wouldn’t ever be rid of.

 

It wasn’t a challenge or an episode. It wasn’t something he could just try on for fun. It wasn’t _fun._  

 

Well, it wasn’t _supposed_ to be. Link was pathetic. 

 

However, Rhett _had_ held him. And cared for him, and Link made more of an effort to notice how Rhett looked at him. And _boy,_ did Rhett _look_ at him. Enough to have Link spend the day with his heart in his throat. 

 

And the things he’d said to Link... 

 

Link’s grin was back. Sad, how easily it came back.

 

And then he appeared in the doorway, hair mussed in a way that was begging to be touched. He’d styled it — still messy and curly, but reaching upwards in a sculpted swoop.

 

“Mornin’.”

 

“Mornin’,” Link replied softly. As he watched Rhett walk to the fridge, memories of lovely words Rhett had directed at him the day before washed over Link like a tidal wave, slow and steady. 

 

Link straightened up.

Maybe Rhett had caught the ghost of his grin, because he grinned, looking right at Link, making the back of Link’s neck prickle up. _Gracious,_ he _really_ needed to straighten up, in so many ways. 

 

“We’re snowed in,” Link blurted. Even though waiting for Rhett to wake up had been akin to waiting for a rejection letter to arrive, he was still (a little too) excited to see him. Rhett’s sleepy smile and grumbling, unintelligible response released all the dread Link had been holding in anticipation. 

 

Rhett’s leisurely aura as he moved about the kitchen placated Link and even emboldened him to speak up about the events of the previous day. Though the rush of perplexing feelings didn’t fade, he felt that with his head a little clearer, he could explain his actions and they could... move on. But Link had no idea that in a few minutes—upon hearing what Rhett’s plan for the day was—Rhett would choke on his _Toppas_ (which was just what the Europeans called their Mini Wheats) and Link would forget about anything except the day ahead. 

 

The scene was as such: Rhett had taken the first bite of his cereal when Link felt the need to talk more. 

 

“We’re gonna go crazy, man.”

 

Rhett raised his head curiously. “Hm?”

 

Link felt oddly spotlighted by those green eyes on his own, so he looked back down into his bowl. “I mean, like.” He spooned the cereal around. Goodness, Rhett’s hair was _amazing_ today. “We can’t really go out of the cabin. I mean, we can, I went out but... it’s so cold, man.”

 

Rhett chuckled, “You think I’ll drive you crazy in here, buddyroll?”

 

Link hadn’t heard that nickname in a while. He smiled. “I think you’ll drive me outta here with an axe.” 

Rhett laughed and Link continued, “Seriously, you got somethin’ for us to do in here?” he indicated the space around them with a limp wrist. He was itching for a distraction.

 

There was nothing in the cabin, no board games or even a pack of cards. The only form of entertainment they’d brought with them were their laptops, and Link wasn’t sure if he wanted to suggest watching Netflix. He imagined that sitting with Rhett on the couch with just enough stimuli to distract them from having an excuse to talk or _touch_ would be a kind of torture specifically tailored to Link’s current state. 

 

As Rhett chewed slowly, something popped into Link’s head. “You got anything good on that agenda?”

 

Rhett looked up at him and coughed. Instant worry made Link want to get up and palpate Rhett to see if he was alright. Thankfully, he remained seated and failed to embarrass himself.

 

“Yeah,” Rhett said, fist on his chest, dragging the word out a little. “Uh, I do. Remember high school—?”

 

Link laughed. A perfect opportunity to interrupt. “ _Generally,_ yeah.”

 

Rhett gave him a long-suffering smile, making Link bare his teeth in a victorious one. 

 

“Remember Bob Everett?”

 

Link always associated the name with one exceptional event in his life. “As well as you do, buddy,” he teased.

 

“Screw it,” Rhett said, closing his eyes for a moment before looking straight into Link’s own. 

A beat. “I want us to watch porn together.”

 

_Senior year. Someone tells Link that a few of their friends had gathered at Everett’s to have a circle-jerk. The interest Link takes in it is so great that he’s invited to the following session._

 

“What?” It was barely a breath, let alone a word. 

 

_He tells Rhett, and they decline. They decide to try it out, though. Just the two of them._

 

Rhett squeezed his eyes shut and put both of his hands in front of himself, palms sideways, the stance he often took when he was about to start explaining things to Link.  

 

“Alright so, we’re supposed to be doing things that we did before, but for some reason can’t anymore, right?”

 

Feeling awkwardly on the spot, Link just nodded. He felt bad for calling Rhett out for his _dumb_ way of bringing it up. He knew that he could _never_ have brought it up himself.

 

“So, if we just... do this, and it’s _fine...”_ Rhett gave up there, letting his hands fall. 

 

Link nodded again and brought a hand up to fix his glasses. _Yep. Right._

 

“All I’m sayin’ is,” Rhett added, voice a little lower, “If we can do this together, and it’s _normal,_ then that’s proof that everything else can go back to normal.”

 

 _Or it could screw everything up_ royally. Link didn’t think it was a good idea - not quite knowing why. He’d watched porn occasionally, when he’d needed to get off as quickly as he could have, but it wasn’t as much of a priority for him anymore as it had been when he’d been younger and more hormonal. But if _that_ was what Rhett suggested, it meant that Rhett was thinking of moving in at least a similar direction as Link. The whirlwind of hope that the suggestion stirred in Link was _appalling._ Even with all his rationalising, Link was closer and closer to giving in to whatever Rhett wanted to do with him.

 

“Um, I gotta think about it,” Link said. Rhett didn’t look too surprised to hear it. 

 

 _Suppose they did it._ To cement the bond of their friendship. Plus, it might be a good way to get some tension out.

 

They could do it. They had done it in high school. 

 

They had also swum in a freezing creek, something Link wasn’t eager to repeat. Knowing Rhett, he probably had that on his little agenda, too.

 

* * *

 

 

Link hadn’t thought about it in a while. Somehow he’d kept it away from the forefront of his mind. Time helped, through nothing else but making the memories less vivid. Time spent with _Rhett_ did the opposite of helping, but Link had learned to resent improper thoughts as any proper, married, _straight_ man should. It was like Rhett _knew,_ because he never talked about anything that might have been even slightly reminiscent of it. Trouble was, Link didn’t need reminding not to forget. 

 

Rhett was lovely—talking to Link about ordinary things like beer and food and the lake all day, as if he couldn’t tell that Link was barely keeping it together.

 

_Rhett says he’s curious to try it, before they do. Link agrees. To see if it’s better in company. It is, Link finds out after, which is why he says it definitely isn’t. Rhett agrees._

 

It was one thing to be confused about his sexuality when he was nearing forty and had lived a little. But Link had grown up in a rural, closed community where there really was no confusion to be had. When he was nineteen, there had been _right_ and there had been _wrong._  

And then there’d been a guy, two years older than Link, murdered in Colorado on account of his sexuality. It had reached the news, and the churches. And still there’d been talk about _God hates fags,_ no peace even in death. 

 

_Link harbours an inkling that this is only one of the many things Rhett wants to try with him. Later, he finds out he’s wrong._

 

_They sit in Link’s room, on the bed, the comforter over them. A magazine between them. Rhett turns the page and Link’s eyes stick to his hand._

 

It didn’t matter that years had passed. Link was getting more and more curious, and it was a curse. 

The whole day his stomach was in knots. He awaited but a single word from Rhett, and he knew he’d be next to him on the couch in a flash once Rhett beckoned. Or maybe they’d do it in bed? Link doubted that, but it was a possibility. _So_ many possibilities. 

 

Link brewed coffee, which made him all the more jittery. He went out, kicked around some of the snow on the terrace, enjoyed freezing.

 

_“Link!”_

 

He jumped, then took a sharp breath. He had barely made it to four in the afternoon when Rhett called him inside, and in the light of the early winter twilight Link felt like it wasn’t dark enough for them to do it yet. 

 

Rhett only announced that he’d go out in front of the house to inspect the damage now that the blizzard had stopped. 

 

Link nodded and decided that when Rhett came back, Link would tell him that he couldn’t go through with it. He feared that he couldn’t stop if they started. Feared being labeled “creepy” as much as he feared Rhett letting him be as _creepy_ as he liked.

 

By six in the evening, Link was stress-eating cake on the couch. Rhett was outside and Link was sure that he wasn’t far, but anything was far if it wasn’t the spot on the couch next to him. Link had been partly bored, partly in the mood to shove his face into some chocolate, so he’d taken his fancy Austrian cake out of the fridge. He dug into it idly, forking the edges away. 

 

It was divine. He was chewing slowly, YouTube tinkering on his phone on the armrest. Jenna Marbles videos (he’s only human). _Didn’t she and her man use to be just friends? When had_ this _happened?_ Link grinned on account of it.

 

He locked his phone and did his best to straighten up and not look too useless when he heard the front door open. Rhett closed it and faced Link as soon as he started undressing, tugging at his scarf. 

 

 _“Oh ho ho,”_ Rhett laughed, eyeing the cake, “Is it good?” He sounded happy.

 

Link rolled his eyes and smiled widely. “Why don’t you try for yourself,” he said, pointing at the gnawed-on drum of chocolate and apricot jam sitting on his lap.

 

Rhett chucked his jacket onto the hanger and quickly took off his shoes, crossing the room in a few strides to throw himself on the couch next to Link. He used his hand to claw into the cake, making Link snatch it away from him.

 

But the damage had been done, and Rhett just chewed on the piece of cake, licking his fingers as Link freaked out. He was also laughing, so it might not have sounded like Link was actually scolding Rhett when he said, “You freakin’ _idiot—”_

 

“Mmmm,” Rhett hummed, tip of the thumb in his mouth, “This is _incredible.”_

 

“Yeah, well, now it’s _inedible,”_ Link said, smiling open-mouthed and getting into Rhett’s space as he waited for him to acknowledge Link’s quick-witted quip. His gaze soon fell on Rhett’s fingers as he tapped them against his tongue, licking the chocolate off.

 

“Oh come on, man” Rhett said, though he didn’t sound as exasperated as he did playful. “I know you still want it.” Rhett plucked the fork from Link’s grasp and cut off a piece of cake, then gently placed his other hand under it and brought it close to Link’s chin. 

 

Keeping steady eye contact — and using it to let Rhett know how insufferable he was, but _fondly_ — Link opened his mouth and leaned forward, accepting the sweet bite. 

 

“Mmm,” Rhett repeated, though he wasn’t the one eating. “Good?”

 

Link chewed and bobbed his head in agreement. He had half a mind to do a gag and _gag,_ but figured he couldn’t try to be funny right then. Not with the way Rhett was looking at him.

 

“More?” Rhett asked. Link nodded. He found that his mouth had gone dry. The low crackle of the fireplace faded into the background as Link watched him, rapt. _Why you gotta be so sweet?,_ Link thought as Rhett cut off another piece and brought it up, and Link saw the cake jiggle as Rhett’s hand trembled. He brought his own hand up instinctively and took Rhett’s wrist to steady him, looking up at him through glasses which had slipped down his nose. He parted his lips and leaned forward, not missing the part of Rhett’s own lips as he mirrored Link and inched closer. 

 

The fork clattered against the plastic tray and fell to the floor somewhere in Link’s periphery. Link only tore his eyes away from Rhett’s face when Rhett bent down to pick it up, fumbling and muttering an apology. 

 

When Link glanced down, the realisation struck him that the fork had grazed his leg on its fall.

 

“You tryna kill me, man?” he asked, chuckling, covering the stain on his thigh with a hand, rubbing the spot absently, but Rhett’s gaze was humourless, _cutting._ He looked like he was about to say something, but didn’t. He set the fork on the coffee table and pinched the small piece of the cake with his fingers, offering it to Link. 

Link knew what it meant — _Rhett didn’t want him to hurt himself with a utensil._ It was _annoying._ Link was sure he was having heart palpitations. 

 

He leaned forward and took the piece of cake between his lips, careful not to touch Rhett’s fingers. Rhett stayed completely still, save for his unsteady hand. 

 

“Still tasty?” Rhett asked softly.

 

“Yeah...”Link bit down on his lip as he smiled. Rhett was being weird. Again, like in the kitchen the previous day. Link couldn’t do much but let him, with the way his body warmed under Rhett’s gaze. 

 

Still, what Link did next, he considered silly: he dug his own two fingers into the cake and then held them out for Rhett, out and up in front of Rhett’s face before he could think about it too much. 

 

Rhett leaned in, parting his lips, taking the cake with his teeth, his lips pressing—just for a moment—to the tips of Link’s fingers. Link trembled. 

“Oh,” Link let out.

 

Somewhere outside, the cry of a quail. Link barely heard it. He could barely hear—or feel, or taste, or _smell—_ anything. The sight of Rhett was so captivating it unbound Link of his other senses.

Rhett’s cheeks and exposed neck were stained red, face intense and impossibly handsome under a head of messy hair, wild and golden, _the hair of an ancient demigod._ Link’s thoughts were getting downright _stupid._ Still, his heart ached at the realisation that he’d never seen Rhett look like _that._

 

Rhett dipped a finger in the melted ganache on top and presented it to him. Link leaned down, glacially, and licked Rhett’s finger, scarcely tasting chocolate. Burning with heady desire, Link had no idea what he was doing, and it could have all gone wrong, could have launched a fight worse than any before —

 

 

Rhett made quick and shaky movements to grab another piece, and Link had to grit his teeth so as not to surge forward. All he could think of was pressing his lips to Rhett’s small, sweet ones, being tickled by his moustache. 

 

Link recognised himself in the way Rhett sat rigid and breathed unevenly. Rhett brought a new drop of chocolate to Link’s lips, and Link repeated the motion of licking it off, keeping Rhett’s thumb on the tip of his tongue, letting Rhett move it himself, waiting until Rhett dragged it down, pulling Link’s bottom lip with it. Link found himself sighing, still as he quivered with need. He’d never been as hard in his life.

 

He was pretty certain he’d caught Rhett looking at his lips, but Link was unable to look away from Rhett’s eyes. _I love you,_ he thought fiercely, and at once knew that it was true and that nothing else mattered. Nothing was embarrassing or excessive because he loved Rhett, so much that he could die.

 

Rhett struggled to feed him again, shakily bringing up another morsel. _The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,_ Link smiled at the thought. 

 

Link didn’t know if he was being beckoned on purpose, but Rhett didn’t move his hand, forcing Link forward. Link didn’t budge—he simply took hold of Rhett’s wrist again and brought his hand to his mouth, and thus ate. 

 

When the piece was in Link’s mouth, Rhett retracted his hand, and as he fumbled to readjust in his seat, his hand grazed the cake, the soft pad of his palm smeared with chocolate. When Link’s gaze fell down to follow the movements of Rhett’s body, he saw that Rhett was unmistakably hard, sitting with his legs apart. Link had to close his eyes for a good moment, mind clouded with thoughts of moving the dessert and bridging the gap between their wanting bodies.

 

Rhett shifted the cake over to the coffee table, then took Link’s hand into his own and pressed a long kiss to it. 

 

“Good?” he asked, voice rougher than warranted for asking about food.

 

Link nodded, but he worried Rhett was going to get chocolate everywhere, so he pulled Rhett’s hand up to his own mouth. He pressed his lips to the soft skin there, finally tearing his gaze away from Rhett’s face to look down at his beautiful hand. Carefully, he opened his mouth and pressed wet kisses up the side of his palm, then kissed the middle of it.

 

_“Link—”_

 

Link didn’t reply, he just took Rhett’s hand into both of his, kissing and touching with abandon, turning over those long, graceful fingers in his own. The lack of a ring on the hand Link kissed only reminded him that the other one harboured it, but what could he do? Rhett was breathing heavily and inching closer, moving his hand the way Link arranged it and making soft sounds like he wouldn’t have been able to take it if Link stopped. So Link didn’t.

 

Rhett’s hands were beautiful, but not as beautiful as his face, so close now, his eyes fixed on Link when Link finally looked up, never ceasing the kisses, peppering them all the way up to the tips of Rhett’s fingers. Link felt Rhett’s knee come into contact with his own and suddenly realised Rhett was surrounding him, realised he was enfolded in the warmth of Rhett’s closeness. Rhett’s expression seemed to reflect every one Link’s desires.

 

Link opened his mouth for Rhett to push his fingers into. He raised his chin, as if opening his throat, too. Rhett stopped and looked at him before groaning and letting his head fall forward, dragging his hand down Link’s face and neck. Link leaned into it with a whimper.

 

“Link,” he said again, breathing heavily, their faces close so their cheeks were almost touching. 

 

“Yeah?” Link whispered, tilting his head but not letting it touch Rhett’s.

 

“You wanna—uh—“

 

Link nodded. Honestly? _Anything._

 

Rhett responded with his own nod and got up swiftly, leaving Link alone on the couch. 

 

Link felt like he’d been drinking heavily and was suddenly forced to sober up, and leaned against the backrest with a moan.

 

Rhett returned a moment later with his laptop, and Link deflated.

 

The next thing he saw, sitting there cold, was Rhett idly scroll through categories before settling on _lesbian._ It made Link want to laugh, but his breath came up too short for that. 

 

Rhett cleared his throat, setting the laptop down next to the cake on the coffee table. “This is gonna be a wiener fest anyway, no need to look at one too.”

 

Link barely heard him. 

 

_Over the magazine in Link’s childhood bed, their hands meet as they try to turn the page. Rhett chuckles, and Link looks at him. Look at me, he thinks, as they begin to touch themselves. Look at me, look at me, look at me—_

 

Did Rhett really need the porn? “Good choice,” Link’s voice was not as strong as he’d have liked it to be. 

 

The video was already playing, an overwhelming ad for the production company stealing his attention from Rhett for a moment. Porn was kind of gross, Link thought. And the mood seemed better before, without it. But it was a means to an end. Without it, he wouldn’t have gotten anywhere, and this way—though he didn’t know what he was expecting or if he should have had expectations—he was excited. 

 

Still, Link couldn’t completely relax and enjoy his viewing experience. The two actresses kissed and began to undress slowly. They were hot, sure, but they weren’t what made Link sit stiffly, thinking of sitting on his hands so they wouldn’t act on their own. This was Rhett, his best friend, for God’s sake—Link thought that they’d been together long enough for him not to need to remind himself of that. He had to get a grip.

 

One of the women pushed the other on the bed and climbed over her, and Link could easily imagine—

“So,” Rhett said, breaking Link’s dangerous train of thought and making the silence awkward, “This is what Stevie does, huh?”

 

Link gasped, raising his hands just enough away from his junk so as not to touch it when Rhett mentioned their producer. _“Seriously?!”_ he asked, actually angry. 

 

He turned to see Rhett grinning, his cheeks bunched up. 

 

Hoping to convey that there were more things wrong with Rhett than Link could count, he admonished, “Don’t bring her into this, ya jerk!”

 

Rhett only chuckled. “I’m kiddin’. Plus, she kinda deserves that. She’s been all up in _our_ business, tryna get us to kiss for _months._ ”

 

“What—?” 

 

“Don’t tell me you don’t...” Rhett’s face scrunched as if he were offended. “You’ve seen the stuff the team comes up with for us to do on camera,” Rhett said, sounding genuinely incredulous that Link might not have picked up on it. 

 

Link hadn’t. He wasn’t stupid—he’d been present for it, but to for Rhett to think— _to know?!—_ that there was some secret agenda behind the corny shenanigans... That shook him, and he had no idea what to think of Rhett’s nonchalance regarding it. The fact that the team hadn’t succeeded meant nothing, but the whole thing suggested that there were apparently even more people who thought them kissing wouldn’t have been that big of a deal. And a kiss was not just two faces pressed together; it wouldn’t have been, when it came to the two of them, and Link felt that Rhett had to know at least that much.

 

“I don’t even know if I can watch this anymore, now,” Link said, resting his hand on his belly.

 

“Me either,” sighed Rhett, whose hand was steadily inching down. Link didn’t need eye contact to know. Still he turned, only to see that Rhett wasn’t watching the movie. He was watching Link. 

 

_Rhett looks at him, then tears his eyes away quickly. He makes a raunchy comment about the tits on page 36._

 

 _Yep,_ Link thought, turning back to the screen. Actually, he _could._ He could watch it. 

 

Getting a blanket had been too much work, apparently. Rhett did get the lotion and Kleenex, however. 

 

Rhett was the first to move, and _without making direct eye contact_ , Link could tell that he’d stuffed a hand into the front of his sweatpants. Link didn’t follow his lead, but he couldn’t help palming himself over his own sweatpants. The places on his jaw and throat where Rhett’s hands had been still burned, and his eyes flitted to Rhett for a brief moment when he thought of it. He splayed his fingers over his clothed erection before wrapping his grip around it, trying and failing to keep his breathing steady. 

 

The couch cushions dipped when Rhett moved. Link knew that he was pushing his pants further down, and kept his eyes glued to the screen. With no blanket, Link was entirely too aware of the display beside him. Sweats and boxers, ridden-low and taut around hips. Rhett’s hand moving, somewhere in his periphery. 

 

_Rhett’s sitting so close to him that Link can’t not look at him. Their heads almost knock together over the magazine, each stroking themselves slowly as they do._

 

That time in high school had come about a little too late for Link to blame it entirely on teenage hormones. It had been something else, something that had begun to develop between them after they’d made the decision to start living together. Something they hadn’t spoken about, but should have. God, they should have—even if the words came clumsily. This way, Link had had enough time to convince himself that things like this were the best he could get, that they would have to be enough. They hadn’t been, and they still weren’t.

 

Rhett’s hand knocked his own when he grabbed the lotion that sat between them. Link flinched, letting out a startled moan. Once Rhett was done with the bottle, Link grabbed it, slicking himself up to the obscene sounds of Rhett doing the same next to him, looking ahead bashfully, feeling his face heat up.

 

It was rough and dirty and desperate, but Link closed his eyes and fucked his fist, picking out Rhett’s sounds among a cacophony of artificial ones. 

 

_Link catches him looking away a few times. As their movements get quicker, Rhett’s hand crumples the magazine. He leans back, head knocking against the wall, then turns and looks Link right in the eyes._

 

_Rhett writhes next to him, making the magazine slip down the covers and off the bed. Link leans forward to try and get it when he feels Rhett’s hand on his arm stop him. He lets Rhett pull him back and fucks his fist fervently, unable to take his eyes off Rhett, who has his own eyes closed as he comes, moaning and convulsing next to him. Link shoots all the way up to his own throat._

 

Link mustered what was left of the bravery he’d had as a youth. He turned his head slightly, looked at the bridge of Rhett’s nose, his flushed cheeks, his parted lips. Some of his hair had fallen down to his forehead, and Link felt his belly tighten.

In Rhett’s face he could see his nineteen-year-old friend, could remember not only that day but the many they’d spent together since. It distracted him enough to delay his orgasm, thankfully.

 

Rhett turned and met his gaze and then held it. Link let out a long breath, slowing the hand that was on his cock as he leaned back. He couldn’t look away from Rhett if he wanted to. 

 

Rhett’s tongue poked out to touch his bottom lip. Link used his free hand to push his shirt up, raking his fingers over his abdomen, jerking off almost violently. 

 

Rhett grit his teeth, and Link let out a low whine and let his eyes close. He opened them when he felt Rhett’s hand on his thigh. He shuddered at the feeling, moaning with abandon, his cock twitching in his hand. Link moved his head further into the space between them, still resting it on the back of the couch. 

 

Rhett was still looking at him like he was about to say something, but then his hand on Link’s thigh dug into the soft flesh there. He looked down at himself, and Link did too— _God damn it,_ still as big as ever. And pink and wet and hard, and then shooting ropes over Rhett’s belly and the shirt he’d failed to move out of the way quickly enough. 

 

Link slapped a hand over the one that was on his thigh and looked up, eyes screwing shut as he came to the sound of Rhett’s low moaning. If he’d been clear-headed enough, he might have been able to vouch that he’d heard his name among the moans. This way, he could only hope that he had. 

 

He gasped, squeezing Rhett’s hand harder than he had in the ice-bath, gasping as he felt hot streaks of cum on his own belly. He abandoned Rhett’s grasp in favour of the Kleenex.

 

Looking down, he saw that Rhett had put himself back into his pants, and Link quickly stuffed his softening dick into his boxers. Meanwhile, Rhett reached over and closed his laptop, cutting the porno off. 

 

Link struggled to catch his breath, feeling like he might be sick. 

 

It didn’t help when Rhett spoke to him, and Link turned to see him looking up at the ceiling as he stroked his beard. “Remember that time in senior year—”

 

Link shook his head a little, “You already asked me that,” he said with a sigh, smiling the tiniest sad smile when he realised Rhett had been thinking about it too. 

 

“No, I mean senior year of college.”

 

Link furrowed his brow, and then he realised what Rhett was referring to and his frown only deepened. 

 

_Out at a club, for the last time in a while. Back home, they laugh, hugging, against the closed door of the room in which Gregg already sleeps. They’ve fallen together drunkenly and seek pressure from each other. (Imbued with thoughts of Rhett on top of him as they wrestled, which is yet unbeknownst to him as being the last time ever, Link smiles.)_

 

 _Well_ — Link’s mind supplied — _not the last time they wrestled, if whatever happened the day before counted._ Tellingly, he’d also been thinking about kissing Rhett then. 

 

_Pressing into the hollows of the other, hands roaming over the cotton. No skin-on-skin contact, technically. Excited to be exploring, though neither will admit the excitement, nor the fact that there is a desire for any kind of exploration. Not even a sound. Before Rhett can shove his hand fully past Link’s belt and down into the back of his pants, before there could be any skin-on-skin, there’s cold absence._

 

_The spinning in Link’s head when Rhett stops, and Link lets him withdraw into the room. Link has to lean against the spot on the door that Rhett’s kept warm until he’s certain he can keep the evening down. His stomach doesn’t stop churning for a long time._

 

He kept it all down, though. Everything.

 

There were days when all he could think about was kissing Rhett. But his mind was always just cruel enough to remind him of all the times Rhett had clearly stated that it was the last thing he’d ever want.

 

“You turned real ugly after that,” Link spat, though it hurt him to. He could tell by Rhett’s face that it was hurting him, too. _Good,_ Link thought, _you owe me that much._ “Making up rules about not touching me and not _likin’_ anything about me—”

 

“You’re the one doing it now!” Rhett raised his voice, and Link scoffed before extracting himself from Rhett’s grip. He pulled his pants up huffily. 

 

Link wouldn’t let himself cry in front of Rhett again. “Well ain’t you just so _chill_ about all of this. Actin’ like our families don’t exist, like my job doesn’t depend on you, like my whole life doesn’t depend on you—and what the _hell_ was _this—?”_

 

“Link, Link,” Rhett was grabbing at his arm, so softly that Link almost let himself be pulled back. “Man, everything I am depends on you. God, sit down — I’ll sit on the small rock and you can tell me anything—” Talking about the furniture in that way made Rhett seem so little that Link almost let his heart soften. 

 

Link shook his head, retreating. He was going to go before he did something that would make Rhett pity him. 

 

He was stopped, because he was weak, by Rhett muttering: “I feel like you loved me, but it’s over now. Like I just… by the time it took me to catch up to you, it was over.”

 

Link was always surprised at his own ability to forget that what hurt worse than Rhett making him feel bad was exactly the opposite. 

 

Link couldn’t stay. He couldn’t let Rhett have this only to regret it once they were back in the real world. He wouldn’t have been able to forget, even if he tried to cause a snowboarding accident worse on himself than the previous one. 

 

Link looked over his shoulder, down at Rhett who appeared ready to slide off the couch and onto his knees. “I think I’m gonna turn in early,” Link said, though his throat was so constricted he was surprised any words came out. 

 

“You want company?” Rhett asked, letting out a breathy chuckle, and _God._ Link couldn’t take it. Rhett was _trying._ The push and pull made Link irritated, and he shook his head and turned to go.

 

If Link was going to do anything, he’d need Rhett to handle him like he’d been trying to for the past few months. He’d need Rhett to actually step up, do _whatever it was he wanted,_ since he always seemed to know better than Link anyway. Since he always played the smart-ass, the stoic, the guide. The protector. _(Link loved him so, so much. Why did Link feel this need to show him that romantically? Physically? Why was it never enough?)_

 

“Link, tell me what to do.” 

 

 _I’ve heard that before,_ Link thought, shoulders slumping as he slowed his walk to the stairs, and realised it had been the day before, when Rhett made him cry. When he’d cried exactly because he knew that no one could make him cry as easily as Rhett could. 

 

“Go to bed,” he said, fighting against his own heart calling him cruel. “We can talk tomorrow.” _Things could go back to normal._

 

It was the chuckle that made Link pause. 

 

“Man, I got it bad for you,” Rhett said, to Link’s retreating form. It startled Link and he turned silently, fully facing him. Rhett went on, “Feels weird to say it, but now I know for sure. Maybe it’s because I know you don’t feel the same or that you’re just a good, _good_ guy that makes me so…”

 

Link was _burning._

 

“... makes me want you so much. I mean, I—in therapy, I’ve been working through a lotta stuff. My therapist doesn’t exactly want me to cheat on my wife, even if it’s a complicated situation, but even she caught onto that I _would,_ Link. Used to tell her she was the crazy one if she thought that.”

Link didn’t say anything, which Rhett took as a sign to go on. “I can’t work through just lettin’ you go, Link. And I know saying it doesn’t help and it probably doesn’t mean anything, but I gotta say it.” 

 

“You’re not lettin’ anything go,” Link said. He wouldn’t go to him, wouldn’t let himself become one of Rhett’s therapeutic growth exercises. He’d made peace with the fact that he might let Rhett to do anything to him, but he wasn’t going to go and ask it of him. 

 

Rhett shook his head, “ _Please_ stop pretending like you don’t know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

 

It hurt exactly because it wasn’t malicious. It was a plea for Link to take the walls down.

 

Link’s tone was bitter. “Are you doin’ this just ‘cause can’t stop fighting? Just ‘cause nothing else seems to be working?”  
  
“It's not like that, man,” Rhett said, shaking his head. “You _know_ that.”   
  
Link brought a hand up to rub at his forehead. “So, what? Now ya want me? What about the years of telling me to get away? To not even touch you?” 

 

He really wanted to trust Rhett, he really did. Plus, he _wanted_ Rhett. But it was all so sudden.  
  
Rhett interrupted him in his bickering voice. "Do I need to remind _you_ where I’m from? Starin’ you down across the room—and I had no idea what that feeling was, but even then I felt it. The way folks looked at us when we couldn’t stay away from each other, and we weren’t even _doin’_ anything. That night with the strawberry wine? When I screwed up, I did everything I could to take it back. I was coward, Link, but I’m trying. I love you. I kissed you through the freakin’..."   
  
_...plexiglass._ Which didn’t count. Why would it? Not like it left Link _reeling._  
  
“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Link interrupted, wanting to yell but unable to muster more than a hiss.  
  
“Why didn’t you?” Rhett asked, incredulous, once again sounding like he was surprised that Link was able to be so irrational.  


Link had many answers to that question, but he didn’t feel like talking anymore. He knew that this was as far as Rhett would go. He knew that if he didn’t act now, the proverbial page would turn, and Rhett would start to let him go. 

 

He loved Rhett too much for that. But he couldn’t swallow his pride down, and he was _terrified._ He wanted to laugh, like he hoped they could one day when this was long behind them. This was Rhett, for Goodness’ sake. Rhett, who he’d known his whole life, with whom nothing had ever been messy. Yet Link could never seem to reconcile the love he felt for Rhett with Rhett himself.

 

Somehow, stomping up the stairs made Link’s escape feel less awkward.

 

* * *

 

 

Link sat on the bed, looking out the window at the moonlight that turned the snowy pines blue. 

 

He couldn’t do it only once. But he also couldn’t not do it at all. He couldn’t die without having kissed him, and each day that he put it off, it felt like the desire itself would kill him. 

 

Link had been pacing around his room, playing with his phone though he hadn’t dared unlock it. He turned the evening over in his head a thousand times. Rhett’s admission of how bad he had it for him, no matter how surreal, felt very familiar. Link loved him for all the same reasons, knew Rhett was moral and good to his family and good to him, that Rhett was struggling with it just as much as he was. As obvious as Link thought he’d been when showing his love, he had to admit that he’d been a coward, too. 

 

It took a little while for Link to make peace with his desires and the fact that even if Rhett turned wicked, it wouldn’t have impacted how badly he wanted him. Even if Rhett used him or he ended up using Rhett and they hurt each other, Link had to try. His age now counted in minutes—the older Link got, the more apparent it became that he couldn’t come back from this, and he couldn’t die without ever having had Rhett. 

 

Hours passed, and Rhett hadn’t knocked on his door. Link’s head was in his hands, the rush of foreign feelings slowly urging him to get up. 

 

 _How would kissing Rhett work? What if it wasn’t as good in practice as in theory?_ He’d spent too much time online not to catch glimpses of descriptions about the fire and the certainty predicted about when they finally kissed after so many years. _What if they kissed, and there was nothing?_ Just a wet press of Rhett’s face to his own, disappointment that would ruin the relationship that meant the most to him. Rhett’s touch was so overwhelming that Link didn’t think he wouldn’t enjoy kissing him. But he wasn’t so sure about how Rhett would feel. They’d done worse things than kissing on the show. Still, Link thought, there was something about kissing alone in a room that felt a million times harder.

 

Then, in the middle of the night, Link couldn’t think anymore. He got up and left his room.

 

 _What if my breath stinks?,_ he thought in the hallway, like a _baby._ _What if we knock our heads together—_

 

He heard the quick thrum of his heart in his ears and felt his stomach where his tonsils had once been.

 

Rhett was sitting on his bed when Link opened the door. He looked up at Link with wide eyes.

 

Link closed the door behind himself. Rhett angled his body toward him and sat up a little straighter as Link walked over, and once again Link wondered why he hadn’t done this earlier.  

 

Link took his face in both of his hands and bent down to kiss him, hard and impatient. As soon as their lips met, his skin was raised in goose-bumps and the feeling of joy itself was bubbling inside him.

 

Rhett welcomed him easily. With fire and certainty. 

 

Link lowered himself onto the bed, one leg folded under him as he pressed into Rhett and kissed him, not letting him breathe. Rhett pushed back into him, his hands coming up to grab at Link’s shirt and pull him in. 

 

They kissed with their mouths closed. Rhett’s moustache tickled, as did his beard. They unstuck their lips only to connect them again between gasps, all until Link broke a kiss to wrap his hands firmly around Rhett’s neck, shaking as they grabbed at each other. Rhett brought him closer until Link was almost sitting on top of him and buried his face in Link’s chest. Link held him close, resting his chin on top of Rhett’s hair.

 

“One hug a day,” Rhett mumbled, making it easy. 

 

Link moved away just enough to look down at him. He took Rhett’s face back into his hands carefully and pressed another kiss to his lips. The smile that adorned Rhett was the widest Link had seen in a while, so Link kissed him two more times, long and slow, and Rhett reciprocated steadily. Still, Link felt a little too excited, like he had done enough forbidden things for the night. 

 

“I should go to bed,” Link whispered, unable to keep the dumb smile off his face, stroking Rhett’s cheeks with his thumbs.

 

“Okay,” Rhett said, still holding him tightly. Still grinning widely, his eyes glistening in the half-dark.  

 

Link moved out of his hold and stood before him. “Okay,” he said, walking a few paces backwards clumsily. 

 

Rhett smiled, not taking his eyes off of him. 

Link was shy under the scrutiny, but he couldn’t stop looking at Rhett, either.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Rhett said, and Link had thought he’d be scared of that, but he wasn’t. 

 

“Okay,” he said as he opened the door. They looked at each other with wide smiles all until Link turned to go.

 

“Link—”

 

Rhett got up and bridged the gap between them. He took Link’s face into his hands and pressed his lips to Link’s own, taking his time. Link turned to goo in his hold, sighing affectionately as Rhett relaxed him with careful, gentle kisses.

Rhett broke the kiss and shook his head before closing his eyes to kiss him again, harder this time, making Link laugh quietly. Rhett peppered kisses on and around Link’s lips, not letting go until he was satisfied.  

 

When Rhett did let him go, the last thing Link wanted was to leave. But everything was still so overwhelming that they undeniably needed a moment to process it. Rhett was leaning against the doorway with a look on his face like he couldn’t get enough of Link. Like he loved him, even after what Link had done. Like he loved him _all the more_ for it. He was so beautiful that it was unreal, and Link didn’t take his sights off him until he was behind the closed door of his own room. 

 

Link noticed that his eyes were wet only once he was sitting back down on his bed, thinking he’d never sleep again.

 

(He crashed around two in the morning, still with a pathetic smile on his face.)

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	5. five: sleep in bunk beds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what's your favourite brand of true love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thanks to mike (@its-mike-kapufty) for the beta!!!

Rhett had never been any good at covertness. Sometimes, even when the cameras were rolling, he’d been unable to catch himself before his face softened and proudly displayed funny expressions prompted by one of Link’s many charming quips or quirks. 

It had usually been up to other people to deduce the meaning of Rhett’s gaze: _open, loving, whipped_. 

 

When Rhett got up that morning, he knew he was showing it all. But he didn’t care—he stared at Link more freely than ever. He didn’t care about the significance of his gaze, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t know. He’d never known more. It was a great moment, no matter how terrifying. 

 

Link was cleaning the fridge—of all things—and Rhett hung around in the doorway of the kitchen and devoured him with his eyes. Link was just doing whatever he needed to do to occupy himself, and it was dumb, because it wasn’t like the fridge had needed cleaning, but Rhett couldn’t stop grinning. 

 

He didn’t have to acknowledge how handsome Link was. How talented and intelligent. How kind, and pretty, and how every little part of him was incredible. That had always been the way Rhett saw Link, and he’d always held an overwhelming amount of prideful possessiveness, but never like that; never so much it rendered him borderline vulnerable, never like the morning after the night Link first kissed him.

 

Link straightened to stretch after wiping the bottom shelf and happened to catch sight of him. Rhett bared his teeth silly, which made Link shoot him a tiny smile. Rhett walked over, ready to frame his face in his hands and continue where they’d left off. Like he knew, Link shut the fridge and leaned against the counter, worrying the cleaning cloth in his hands. Rhett crowded him against the counter and bent down, hands coming to rest on Link’s waist.

 

Link turned his head, making the kiss land on his cheek. In the resounding confusion of rejection, Rhett had barely even kissed his cheek properly, his lips brushing Link coldly, feeling his stomach drop. 

 

Rhett winced, saddened into lame stillness. 

 

“Uh,” Link began, looking down, “I’m sorry. I wanted to talk to you about… that.”

 

Rhett knew by Link’s tone that Link wasn’t as brazenly joyous about the night before as Rhett was. He couldn’t do much but nod, an ache in his throat worse than the one when he’d made Link cry. He was still holding Link, since Link had made no attempt to move.

 

“We can’t tell anyone we tried—” Link said, tone clipped. “I don’t think it can be, like, a thing. But we should wait to see if it, y’know... fixes anything.” 

 

Rhett hung onto every word, but the disappointment overwhelmed him into silence.

 

“It kinda has, right?” Link asked, not quite stuttering. “I mean—I feel good.” 

 

His eyes flitted to Rhett’s lips for a moment.

 

Rhett leveled him with an eyebrow-raise. “Alright,” he said quietly.

 

Link looked relieved enough to churn Rhett’s insides bitterly. And then disappointment mutated into anger, but Rhett was adamant not to let it manifest. He had learned his lesson on acting like he knew better than Link, or like Link frustrated him…  which Link did, to no end. And Rhett still had a crazy inkling that he knew best for them, a big part of which was not insisting that he _did_. Rhett had to keep reminding himself not to get it twisted—Link held all the cards.

 

Still. There was no ignoring the realisation that their relationship didn’t need mending, but _progress_. Touching without rationale, whispering sweet words—shouting them if necessary. Loving, and caring. 

 

Neither had moved, save for Rhett taking his hands off Link. Maybe it was the isolation making Rhett a little loopy, but spending time alone with Link made him wonder why he’d ever cared about anyone’s opinion but Link’s, and anyone’s feelings but their own.

 

He ran his hands up Link’s arms and settled on his shoulders, eyes searching for signs of protest in Link’s own. Link kept the same fatigue on his face, and though he tensed up, he didn’t shrug Rhett off. Rhett leaned down until his nose almost touched Link’s, which startled a sharp inhale out of Link. But he didn’t move.

 

“I’m gonna kiss you,” Rhett said gruffly, “Now, you don’t gotta kiss me back. But I’m gonna do it.” 

 

Link exhaled. The last thing Rhett saw before closing his eyes were Link’s fluttering eyelashes. Even though Link didn’t respond to the kiss, Rhett still felt the butterflies rouse. 

 

“Listen to me,” Rhett whispered, wanting to laugh at himself, keeping his head close to Link so that he could press a kiss to his face every time he finished a sentence. He spoke slowly—both to allow for kisses, and to hammer the words in. “I don’t wanna just mess around to see what happens. I don’t think you do either. And if you do… you gotta know you screwed me up so bad yesterday that I don’t know if I can ever go back to how I was before.” 

 

That last part would have sounded like guilt-tripping if halfway through Rhett’s monologue, Link hadn’t started pressing up into the kisses. Though he kept his lips firmly pressed together, Rhett knew that Link was on the tips of his toes, pushing himself up against the counter. 

 

Still unresponsive, Link let his lips slacken. Rhett parted his own and slotted them with Link’s, and let his tongue poke out onto his own bottom lip, where it touched Link’s. 

 

“No, stop,” Link whispered, having broken the kiss. He dragged his head down until his forehead was resting on Rhett’s chest. When he spoke again it was louder, but also more forlorn: “You _know_ we can’t.”

 

Before Rhett could rationalise it, or remind himself that he perhaps shouldn’t act so _goddamn frustrated,_ he was dragging Link over to the couch. 

 

“Sit,” he said, letting go of Link’s hand curtly. He had to admit he missed it a little, instantly.

 

“C’mon— _what—?”_ Link asked, face wrinkled in defeat. He sounded so exhausted that for a moment Rhett thought about walking away.

 

“Siddown,” Rhett ordered, chagrined with a pang of guilt. Link grumbled, but did. 

 

Rhett pulled the armchair forward until it nearly touched the couch, then stepped between Link’s legs and plopped down onto it. They sat close, knees in a zig-zag and bumping together.

 

“Now talk,” he ordered where he should have questioned. 

 

Link sighed and leaned back on the couch, away from Rhett. Rhett was leaning forward, elbows on knees and fingers interlocked. 

 

“Why’d you bring me here?”

 

Rhett let him ask one question, at the cost of being answered with one. “Here—?” Rhett pointed at the couch, “Or…” he gave a more general wave of his hand to indicate Slovenia. Link had asked that before, but it seemed more charged now. Which meant that Rhett was less prepared to answer it.

 

Link gave him a long-suffering look that needed a smug rebuttal. Rhett kept his voice careful, though. “‘Cause of what happened last night.”

 

Link seemed embarrassed at first, but then a corner of his lips tilted up just the slightest bit.

 

“I don’t even know how I made myself do it,” Link began with a derisive huff, looking at Rhett and then away from him, “But then it looked like you wanted it worse than me.” _C’mon, now._ Rhett hadn’t been that obvious, surely. (Except he had, and the thought only pleased him). “You always—joked about it. It felt like when you joke about Christy, to make me mad.”

 

Rhett gave a little shrug. “I wouldn’t mind a piece of—”

 

“Don’t—” Link warned, a little louder than Rhett was expecting. _“Go_ there.”

 

Rhett nodded, foregoing an apology and letting his tone carry it, “You’re not a joke to me, man. You know I’ve thought about it a million times. You know I never did anything _exactly_ ‘cause I thought about it so much.”

 

Link was picking the bottom of his t-shirt, raising small tents then letting them deflate—a clear sign that he was on edge. “I’m not leaving my wife for you.” 

 

Rhett furrowed his brow and tried not to let the guilt show—not that Link was looking at him. “Gettin’ ahead of yourself?” he asked, and regretted it when Link glared up at him like he was begging him to not be _like that._

 

Maybe Rhett concluded the meaning of Link’s gaze from his own feelings about what he’d said. “You know I wouldn’t dream of askin’ for that?” he asked sincerely, to ameliorate. 

 

“I know you wouldn’t,” Link said in a voice that indicated that _that_ was exactly the problem. Rhett hadn’t asked, but Link had still thought of it. There was a pause, filled with Rhett trying to get hold of Link’s gaze, but failing. And then Link spoke again, “Just so we’re clear. I love Christy more than you.”

 

Rhett knew that he should have responded only in questions, but he found himself with nothing to ask. 

 

“Good,” Rhett said, because maybe Link _did._ He didn’t say the same thing about his wife. He didn’t have anyone to pretend for.

 

“Good.”

 

Good.

 

Link leaned forward to mirror Rhett, their faces just a few inches away.

 

Link’s eyes glued to Rhett’s when he asked, sounding as lost as Rhett could never admit himself being, “What are we gonna do?”

 

Rhett wasn’t trying to be funny—he could only think of one thing with Link’s face so close.

 

“Make out,” he laughed at his juvenile wording.

 

“Rhett…”

 

“Not much to do ’round here,” Rhett said. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d blinked.

 

Link took a deep breath and made a face like all was suddenly going wrong, so Rhett reached out and put a hand on his neck.

 

“I should call my wife,” Link said, like he needed Rhett to tell him if he should.

 

“Should I call my mom?” Rhett retorted, soft, replacing the worry on Link’s face with slight irritation. _That’s better._

 

“I wanna think that Christy wouldn’t be surprised, but you know it’s gonna shock her. God,” Link hung his head, mortified. “She used to tease me about bein’ in love with you. How the hell am I supposed to tell her…”

 

Rhett really wished that Link would have finished that thought, though he didn’t need to. It still made Rhett’s heart skip a beat.

 

“I mean,” Link continued, like he’d said nothing out of the ordinary, “Took me a whole day to tell her about the freakin’ plexiglass. I can’t tell her about this.”

 

“No,” Rhett said, “You can’t, not while she’s halfway across the world. What do you think is gonna happen?”

 

Link put his hand over the one Rhett had on his neck. “I just want her to be okay with it.”

 

“Can’t have your cake and eat it too,” Rhett said, touching his thumb to the corner of Link’s lips as if there were some chocolate stuck there from the day before. For how much that damned cake lived in Rhett’s thoughts, there was very little evidence of it ever having existed. Not a single crumb sat on the coffee table. Rhett knew that it had been Link’s overactive mind that had made him clean it all up before Rhett had woken.

 

Link smiled, but his eyes were sad. “Why’s this _—physical—_ thing—even gotta exist?” the breaks in his words seemed to be caused by a frustration far from exasperated, if the color in his cheeks was anything to go by. “Why can’t we just be _buddies_ and it’s enough? Even now, all I can think about is kissin’ you. I feel like my brain’s been scrambled.”

 

Rhett stroked his face gingerly. “I know,” he murmured. “But it feels good, don’t it?” he implored, because it was just like any other time he and Link had found something they thought was cool together.

 

Link smiled. “It does.” He grimaced, like it caused him pain.

 

Rhett understood. “I wish I didn’t want you so bad that it’s got me considering _anything.”_

 

“We could try to ignore it,” Link said, leaning minutely into his touch.

 

“We could,” Rhett did his best to keep his voice steady—Link didn’t need to know that he would crumble if they did. Actually, Link probably knew.

 

“I don’t want to,” Link said, watching him raptly. He sounded devastated.

 

“Me neither,” Rhett said quickly, quietly. 

 

“I want you more than anything in the world,” Link said, then cringed at himself a little. It made Rhett laugh. 

 

“Don’t sound so happy about it…” 

 

Link smiled, a little less sad. And then he surged forward and kissed him. 

 

“Gosh…” Link shook his head, staying just close enough for it to be painful when he avoided Rhett’s attempt at another kiss. “Why’s it gotta feel so good?” 

 

Then he finally let Rhett kiss him again. And again. And then Link shook his head, again.

 

“We should do somethin’—somethin’ else,” Link said, suddenly on edge. “What’s on the list for today?”

 

Rhett was a little on-edge himself when he made the connection that Link might have been hoping for something akin to, or better than, what had been on his schedule the day before. 

 

“Uh, bunk beds.”

 

Link scrunched his brow.

 

“Just sleepin’ in bunk beds, like we used to,” Rhett said, trying to convey with a look that he—then Link kissed him—that he too wished he’d come up with something more thrilling.

 

“Maybe we can do something outside,” Link suggested. 

 

“Sure,” Rhett said easily, still smiling from the last kiss.

 

“Build a snowman,” Link said, tone gooey and almost suggestive, though he was simply planning how they were going to spend the day. “Maybe go for a walk.”

 

“Sounds good,” Rhett said, just as gooey. “‘Ya have anything to eat, though?”

 

Link shook his head, and then gasped. “I need to put the stuff back in the fridge!”

  


* * *

 

  


Somehow they ended up in a snowball fight. An effort had been made to start a snowman—Rhett had scooped some snow together and kept adding to it, but Link had disagreed with his method of rolling it too soon. They’d bickered until Rhett took the snowball and threw it, to show him how much he _didn’t_ care, and it shattered in the snow at Link’s feet. Link had gaped at him as if Rhett had just attempted murder, and then bent down and squeezed a handful of snow in woolen gloves before throwing it weakly at Rhett’s middle. 

 

They chased each other around the backyard, laughing. Link seemed in high spirits, throwing his head back in maniacal laughter every once in a while, that Rhett didn’t dare stop even when his back protested. 

 

Rhett pelted a snowball across the yard that Link dodged. When he straightened up, with his mouth open in a wide smile and his cheeks red from the cold and the exertion, Link yelled;

 

“I love you more!”

 

Rhett stopped, panting. He dropped the little snow he’d gathered and turned to face Link. “What?”

 

Link walked a few paces closer and lowered his voice, though he still repeated it loud and clear. “I love you more.”

 

Rhett realised what he was talking about, and if there had been any confusion, Link was ready to elaborate. “You know there’s no one I love more than you,” he sounded like he was ashamed to say it, but like he couldn’t _not_. 

 

“You don’t have to say that,” Rhett said considerately, but could barely move for fear of tackling Link and kissing the crap out of him. He knew why Link had said it, and was only happy to hear it, even if he thought it would have been kind to feel a little bad for Link’s wife.

 

“It’s always been like that,” Link said with a shrug, stepping forward. “I remember when I first thought about it, I was still worried about God. But then I was like, God can deal, ya know?”

 

Rhett knew he was grinning like a doofus. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. Leave it to Link to say the most romantic things in the most _innovative_ ways. “I’m sorry I wasted so much time,” Rhett added solemnly.

 

Link shook his head as he walked up to him. “We didn’t waste anything. I’m still glad it turned out this way. Maybe after our children were born we coulda taken it a little faster, but I still had you, y’know? And I love Christy, and Lilly and Lando and Lincoln,” Link listed off with a smile. “And Shepherd and Locke,” Link paused,  “And Jessie.” 

 

Rhett laughed. “See, now you’re gettin’ it,” he said with a pointed eyebrow wiggle, making Link throw a bit of snow he’d hidden in his hand at him. 

 

* * *

 

 

“You ever google ‘Rhett and Link kissing’?” 

 

They were lying in Rhett’s bed, the bottom bunk. 

 

Link had been uncertain about them climbing into one bunk versus two, but Rhett had told him it would make talking easier. Plus, Link had been shivering. Rhett had pointed it out to be _smart,_ but Link had seen the best in him instead—and said it might, actually, be a good idea to warm up while they talked. Teeth brushed, sleep shirts on, they had gotten under Rhett’s comforter and pulled it up to their chins. 

 

Link turned his head to face him for the first time when Rhett asked the offending question. His nose was even prettier up close, even wrinkled in apathy.

 

“Eugh, no,” he punctuated the words by taking his chin in. “Wait, have you?”

 

Rhett gave him a look like he had no clue if he had, which made Link’s features relax in a smile. When the smile widened, it was probably because Link belatedly realised that reacting repulsively to the thought of them kissing held little water now.

 

“So weird...” Link said, closing his eyes for a moment. Rhett scooted his head closer to Link’s on the pillow in the moment when he wasn’t being watched. 

 

Link opened one eye to peer at him and repeated, “It’s all so weird, man.”

 

“What is?” Rhett asked mushily.

 

Link wrinkled his face again, looking like he was searching for the right words. “Weird that we’re actually doin’ this. Weird that I can kiss you.”

 

And how Rhett wished he would. He’d decided on giving Link the option to make the next-first-step, and Link had gotten very close but hadn’t actually kissed him since the couch. Truthfully, Link had been acting the way he always did—Rhett knew that it was only himself who saw every one of Link’s forays into his personal space as an opportunity for a smooch. _Jesus,_ what he’d been reduced to.

 

“Yeah,” Rhett said. They spoke in unconsciously hushed voices, probably because the only source of light in the room was moonlight. “It’s ‘cause you wasted so much time. That’s why we’re not used to it,” Rhett ribbed.

 

Link rolled his eyes, “Yeah, Rhett, keep makin’ fun of me.” Link’s teasing tone excited Rhett, and he was sure his face showed it, because Link smirked. “That’ll definitely make me wanna tell you about the last time you were in Slovenia—”

 

“Slovakia.” No, yeah, _okay—_ Rhett knew that wasn’t the best thing to say.

 

Link just blinked slowly and said, “Gosh. I can’t keep gettin’ it wrong. We’re here, goodness’ sake, and I’m still gettin’ it wrong.”

 

“You’re not gettin’ anything wrong,” Rhett whispered, inching closer. “You wish I took you to Slovakia?” 

 

“Not this time,” Link was smiling so sweetly that Rhett felt his cheeks bunching up instinctively, “Maybe the first time you went.” Link goddamn _shrugged so sweetly_ that Rhett felt the sudden urge to seize him and tickle him with his mouth.

 

“But then I wouldn’t have missed ya so bad,” Rhett said, “Wasn’t it nice when we finally saw each other again? We couldn’t get enough of each other. I seriously felt like I never wanted to spend another day without you.”

 

Link didn’t reply for a moment, like steeling himself up to say something. “Know how I proposed to Christy after her Summer away? Imagine if I’d proposed to you,” he chuckled.

 

It had crossed Rhett’s mind. (Only in the last few hours, and unfortunately not when it had counted.) There were still so many things unsaid between them—but they didn’t need to be said, because both of them knew the depth of their relationship and how the leap to talking about _being husbands_ wasn’t too strange.

 

Rhett smiled. “So why didn’t you?”

 

Link gave him a funny look. “Cause you’d have beat me up.”

 

Rhett huffed, offended, to Link’s giggle. He didn’t need to tell Link that that never would have happened. Link moved his head closer to Rhett’s on the pillow, their noses but an inch away, Link’s face so close that it was beginning to look distorted.

 

“And then say good-byeee to your career. Goodbye childhood-best-friends,” Link said, still giggling.

 

Rhett snorted, reaching under the covers to pinch Link’s side. Link flinched, and Rhett snuck his hand around Link’s back to undo the damage he’d done, pulling Link back in when he moved away.

 

Rhett made a face right down the middle of a smile and a frown. “Gosh. Why’s that funny, y’know? Why’s that making me wanna cringe, now?”

 

“It’s the brand, man,” Link said. “Maybe this—” Link looked between their bodies in a way that made Rhett’s heart flutter, “—is just some mid-career crisis where we’re tryna get away from the _brand.”_

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rhett said sardonically. “Wasn’t your haircut already that?” 

 

Link pursed his lips in an attempt not to smile. 

 

Rhett pushed his nose against Link’s, then moved away to glance at the aforementioned hair. “Looks real good, though,” he muttered.

 

Link smiled. “Thank you,” he mouthed, looking very cool and suave as he did. 

 

Rhett felt a little bashful after the compliment, though he’d already told Link how good he looked, so he went back to what they were talking about. “Some people think this—” Rhett imitated the way Link had looked between them and pulled Link in a little closer for good measure, “—is more on brand than anything, y’know.”

 

“Mhm.” Link didn’t seem to be listening. He put his arm over Rhett’s, making Rhett’s body instantly wake. 

 

Rhett felt the sudden urge to rant, feeling restless when Link ran his fingers up and down his tricep. “You miss the not knowin’? Was that the only thing keepin’ you hanging ‘round me?” he teased. 

 

Link narrowed his eyes at him, still smiling. Then, he wrapped his fingers around Rhett’s arm and used it to pull himself forward, his lips touching Rhett’s just briefly. Rhett instantly pushed back, capturing Link’s lips fully. The kiss was soft, Rhett tamping down his desire to deepen it so as to not startle Link. 

 

“Maybe,” Link whispered when they broke apart, and then kissed him again.

 

“Hm?” Rhett hummed into Link’s lips.

 

“Maybe you should start lookin’ for a new job,” Link said, dropping his head to the pillow. Rhett missed his lips immediately. 

 

“I would. If you’d keep kissin’ me,” Rhett said. 

 

Link laughed, and then brought his hand up to Rhett’s face. He kissed him slowly, and then pulled back to say, “When’d you get so corny, man?”

 

Rhett doubled down on the corniness. “Last night.” 

 

Link shook his head, as if in disbelief. “So weird…” he reiterated, like he still couldn’t believe it, and kissed him again. Rhett understood the sentiment. The kisses were still a novelty—they were only testing each other out—but it felt _real_ good.

 

Link pulled away and looked at him in a way Rhett could only describe as _intense._ He tangled his fingers in Rhett’s beard and scratched his cheek. Rhett could have _purred_.

 

Rhett grinned, and Link just kept looking.

 

"What you starin’ at?” Rhett breathed, “I still got some cake on me?"  
  
"Yeah," Link said, "Lemme get it."

 

He kissed the side of Rhett’s lips and then moved up, propping himself up on an elbow, hovering above Rhett so that he could reach his nose. Rhett flipped onto his back under him, pliant under his lips. He pushed his other hand under Link and pulled him on top, all the while a lax recipient of the sweetest kisses he’d received up to that point.

 

Rhett groaned, making Link pause and lift away while pulling a face. Rhett didn’t waste time calling him back in, just pushed his head up and slotted their lips together again. Link groaned too, then. 

 

When Link parted his lips, Rhett could physically feel passion swell within him. He parted his own in turn and felt Link’s tongue come into contact with his bottom lip. He pushed against Link and scooted up the bed for better access, opening his mouth wider and poking his own tongue out to meet Link’s. 

 

They _made out_ eagerly, kisses keeping them warm under the blanket of cold night. Link licked into his mouth with a brave swipe and Rhett sealed his lips around Link’s own, his tongue at Link’s mercy. Rhett brought a shaky hand up to the back of Link’s neck and held him there as they slowly moved their lips together. He stroked the back of Link’s neck just as Link stroked his cheek. The only sounds in the room were those of kisses, gasps, and the silent rustling of the bedding.

  
Link felt up Rhett with his other hand, rough and clumsy. Rhett could cry; his chest tightened with what he suspected was pure love.   


“Goodness,” Link whispered when they broke apart. He kept his eyes closed. “I was always afraid that—” Link began, then stopped to hide his face in the crook of Rhett’s neck. Rhett wrapped his arms around him tightly and stroked his back, hoping to remind Link that he would be listened to without being judged. 

 

“Cause we’ve been together so long, I worried that kissin’ you was gonna feel weird.”

 

Rhett smiled. “You said it does feel weird.”

 

“I meant—like— _bad_ weird,” Link said, and Rhett could hear the smile in his voice as much as he could feel it pressed to his own throat. “But it’s so good, and it makes me want so much more, man.”

 

The words had Rhett instantly in a frenzy. He suddenly wanted to clear his throat,  or do _anything_ to dispel the tension leaving him speechless. 

 

“Uh,” Rhett squeezed Link closer, revelling in the intimacy no matter how flustered it made him, “What do you want?” he asked, trying his darndest not to _squeak_ it out.

 

Rhett didn’t breathe when Link moved, just moved along with him to be able to see him better when Link raised his head to look at him. “You know,” Link said, tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip for a split second. 

 

Rhett was going to go crazy. “I do?”

 

Link smiled, nodded, and then kissed him. Rhett’s eyes slid shut and he held Link even tighter, opening his mouth up to him instantly. Link touched his tongue to Rhett’s and then dove back in with a broader stroke, making Rhett have to squeeze his eyes shut. 

 

Rhett shifted his mouth over Link’s cheek and just below his ear. “I wanna jump your bones too, Link,” he murmured with an edge of smugness, contented with the knowledge that Link couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating. 

 

Link huffed a laugh and hung his head bashfully. “Don’t talk like that, man,” he admonished.

 

“I want to,” Rhett whispered. Both talk and fuck—and _God._ The thought of the word alone sent a jolt through him. He was nosing along Link’s cheek until Link turned his head to meet his lips again. After a gentle kiss, Rhett added, “You can fuck me first, if that sounds better to you.” The words just kept coming out of Rhett’s mouth, because he’d lived his whole life pretending to be unperturbed by anything, _especially_ words. Truthfully, even expressing his confidential desire confidently must have given Link a clue as to how hungry he was. There were many other things he wanted to try with Link before getting downright fucked by him, but he knew nothing would titillate Link more than the mental image of Link _inside_ him. Nothing titillated Rhett himself more than that.

 

Link squeezed his eyes shut and expelled a breath through his nose, like he was fed up with Rhett. Rhett grinned and pressed a peck to Link’s tightly shut lips. 

 

Link’s expression was humorless, even a little annoyed. It was a different flavour of annoyance, though—completely devoid of the rancour Rhett had been on the receiving end of even just a few days before.

 

“You’re gonna brag about it, ain’t ya,” Link said, shaking his head. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”

 

Rhett raised his eyebrows. “Well, if you fucked me so well it deserved bragging, could you mind?”

 

Link groaned, tilting his head back. “That’s not what I meant,” he said, making Rhett chuckle. “I meant, if you…”

 

“If I fuck you?”

 

“Yes,” Link said tersely, with only a tiny amount of embarrassment only peeking through. “Yeah, Rhett, when _you_ fuck _me.”_

 

It shocked Rhett enough to laugh, and he kissed Link delightedly. 

 

“You don’t gotta act coy, baby,” Rhett said, turning his voice velvety, “We’re gonna do anything you want.”

 

Link seemed to tire of replying to Rhett’s provocations and just kissed him, not even calling him out on the “baby”. It’d felt good to say—maybe it’d felt good to hear, too. Maybe Link hadn’t even noticed—maybe he’d gotten used to it, after it had slipped out of Rhett’s mouth enough times at work.

 

Still, Rhett wasn’t tired of provoking—and felt like it needed saying, when he said, “We don’t gotta do anythin’ you don’t want, either.”

 

 _“Shut_ up,” Link whined, crashing his lips against Rhett’s again. “I want _everything,_ Rhett,” he said, so tough it almost made Rhett squirm. 

 

He pressed into Link’s kisses happily, opening his mouth to him on demand. It didn’t take long for Rhett to get over-excited and flip them so that Link was on his back. Rhett felt up his chest, Link letting out tiny noises as Rhett covered his face with kisses. 

 

“I was getting real tired of finding excuses to touch you, y’know,” Link whispered, like divulging some great secret. Rhett almost laughed. _Link—?_ Link had _no clue._

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading, if you want to, let me know what you think! <3


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